


Second Impact

by venom_for_free



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, BDSM, BDSM club AU, Bondage, Developing Relationship, Dom/sub, Explicit Language, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Modern Setting, Multichapter, Otabek is a dom, Pining, Romance, Sexual Content, Slight Obsession, Smut, Yuri Plisetsky has a daddy kink., Yuri is a poledancer, and masturbation, but there is also some confusion, cursing, surprise, they are both pining idiots
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-29
Updated: 2020-07-17
Packaged: 2021-03-02 17:41:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 8
Words: 26,402
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24440755
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/venom_for_free/pseuds/venom_for_free
Summary: Yuri can admit to himself that it's late. He looks across the club and bites his lip. God damn him. That man has no business being so sexy. A slap on his ass tears him out of his thoughts."Viktor!" He scolds. You don't talk about bullshit like that in a club. At least not the kind of club they are in. Yuri refuses to publicly acknowledge being close to the owner of 'Eros.' The club, not the person. Well, Viktor kind of owns both, so this is hair-splitting. But right now it was easier than making a choice to—"You're staring.""Fuck off.""He won't come over and talk to you, Yuri. This isn't a dream world where he rides up to you in the middle of the street, on a motorcycle, holding out his hand and a helmet for you so you guys can fuck off into the sunset together. If you want him, you'll have to talk to him."Yuri purses his lips."Come on. You are the biggest, loudest brat I know. What are you scared of?" Viktor nudged him forward, trying to push Yuri enough so he would follow his dreams. "Don't worry. He doesn't bite. Not without you asking him to."--Or: Yuri is a bratty little demon and Otabek is the dom who tames him.Finished, updates on Fridays
Relationships: Otabek Altin/Yuri Plisetsky, background Katsuki Yuuri/Victor Nikiforov
Comments: 175
Kudos: 366





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Just because I feel like it is my task to educate people on the matter when I write something that might encourage unsafe behavior, here we go:
> 
> Whether you're playing alone or with a partner, be careful. Make sure to read up on what you are doing. Fanfic is NOT a reliable source of playing information. I try to keep mine as close as possible to reality, but I can't guarantee that for others. Play safe. Dangers exist with improvised sex toys. Always try something on your own body before trying it on others, learn how to spank safely, study basic knots and binds, have medical scissors ready just in case, and make sure your toys are clean! Always include aftercare in all your sessions.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello lovely reader. Welcome to this little adventure.  
> I hope it will be as much fun for you to read as it was for me to write.  
> As always, big thanks to Taedae, who still doesn't hate me, even if I keep shoving big projects at her, and at Marcella for the beautiful art she allowed me to commission.

Yuri can admit to himself that it's late. Not too late, not yet. At least he's got that. But _late_. 

He looks across the club and bites his lip. God damn him. That man has no business being so sexy. 

A slap on his ass tears him out of his thoughts. 

"Viktor!" He scolds his acquaintance. The other would insist they are _friends_ even, but the other has no fucking clue, and that's it. Doesn't matter how long they have known each other. Or that he has been living with Viktor for a while. Or that Viktor became his legal guardian when no one else would do the job after his mother's passing. Doesn't matter at all. 

You don't talk about bullshit like that in a club. At least not the kind of club they are in. Yuri refuses to publicly acknowledge being close to the owner of 'Eros.' The club, not the person. Well, Viktor kind of owns both, so this is hair-splitting. But right now it was easier than making a choice to—

"You're staring." 

"Fuck off." 

"He won't come over and talk to you, Yuri. This isn't a dream world where he rides up to you in the middle of the street, on a motorcycle, holding out his hand and a helmet for you so you guys can fuck off into the sunset together. If you want him, you'll have to talk to him." 

Yuri purses his lips. 

"Come on. You are the biggest, loudest brat I know. What are you scared of?" Viktor nudged him forward, trying to push Yuri enough so he would follow his dreams. "Don't worry. He doesn't bite. Not without you asking him to." 

With a glare, Yuri turned enough to shove Viktor lightly. "He's surrounded by people!" 

"Yeah, and one of them will take him home if you don't stop whining. So go ahead and get that nice dick to yourself." 

Shit, Viktor is right. He _does_ have a nice dick. And many suitors. "And what am I supposed to say? I can't just walk over and drop to my knees. I don't even have a collar to present to him." 

"Oh my gooood, Yuri." Viktor groans and leans over the bar. When did he walk around it? Yuri is terrible at keeping track of anything that isn't Otabek. 

Ha. Otabek. 

He learned the name recently. The other Yuri, _'Eros'_ Yuri, told him. 

Is it weird that Viktor is fucking a guy with the same name as his ward? Or that he liked him enough to buy him a BDSM nightclub? Just so he can be a dancer and entertain people. God, why are those two so fucking freaky? 

Yuri shakes his head. Fuck. He really has to focus on his goal. "Give me a drink." 

Viktor laughs behind him. "Yurochka, America is a wonderful country. You're old enough to fuck, to sell your soul to the army, or to make a life-altering decision and get all types of surgeries. But you're _not_ old enough to drink at 20. No. No drink for you." 

"Not for me, you fucking idiot. For the hot dom!" 

There's a grin on Viktor's face as he continues to shake his head. "Not going to happen." 

What a fucking shitshow. Yuri gathers all his courage. He will manage. He's a big boy. Big enough to be here, after all. 

Okay. 

He slides from his bar stool, careful not to get caught with the harness he's wearing. God, Viktor has to buy kink friendlier furniture. Leather is great to wipe down, but it gets scratches so fucking quickly, and everyone here wears studs and chains. 

_You got this._

Yuri takes a few steps towards the plush sofa on the other side of the room. There he is. Sitting. Waiting. Looking almost bored with all the people around him. That's Yuri's chance. But right when he's ready to shoot his shot, a ridiculously attractive redhead drops into the dom's lap. A female redhead. 

Shit. 

Yuri huffs. He knows when a battle is lost. This isn't a movie, and he knows how to behave. He won't insert himself into an existing relationship. Especially not if the guy isn't even interested in men. He tucks his metaphorical tail between his legs and wanders off. Maybe he will find something else to entertain himself with. At least until he's up on stage. 

\-- 

It's loud, and it's full. Yuri can't see past the first row because he's squinting against the lights. Doesn't matter. He knows the steps by heart. He doesn't need to see the floor or ceiling or whatever. The only thing he needs is a pole. And this one is right there with him. 

As always, he contemplates if it's weird that his pole dance instructor is also his legal guardian's husband. But then he's moving, and nothing matters anymore. There's music, skittering light, hundreds of mirrored crystals breaking the beams into tiny rainbows on his skin. 

He's bedazzled himself, glittering almost as much as the eyes he imagines on him. It should be tacky, but somehow it isn't. Despite all the red and the velvet and the sugary drinks. Despite all the low moaning and grunting around him as people lose themselves in him, in the music, in each other. 

There aren't many inhibitions in a place like this, and Yuri loves it. 

It's special to see people in ecstasy. When they let go. Usually, they only show that side of themselves to their partner, but Yuri can see it, oozing onto the dance floor like a thick fog. 

A bit of it is for him. 

He feels eyes on himself, but that's not new. That hasn't been new for a while.

\-- 

It's two weeks later, and they have organized a party. Viktor has planned for months, and the other Yuri is weaseling around as if he's only two breaths away from a panic attack. He might be. 

Yuri checks all the costumes. It's a burlesque theme. They can't afford to screw that up. He even got himself cute little nipple pasties. Heart-shaped, leopard print, black tassels. Combined with a garter belt and lingerie that wouldn't hinder him while he is dancing. 

For the first part of the night, he is greeting the guests. Yuri wears dress pants and an underbust corset for it, hiding his show outfit. Then, he'll take those off on stage. 

Everything goes well for the first two hours, then he's welcoming Otabek. In a suit. With a big travel bag. Yuri whimpers a little after they are done speaking, and the other Yuri gives him smug glances. Asshole. As soon as Viktor dresses him up and puts a collar on him, _'Eros'_ comes out to play, and he's an entirely different person. 

Yuri might have had a small crush on him. When he was younger. Somewhat younger. Like, last year. Or something. But all of that is utterly null and void because _Otabek is right here_. With some god-given power he didn't know he had, Yuri gives him a shy smile. That's a lot right now, cut him some slack. 

Otabek nods from afar, already retreating, and … the corner of his mouth twitches. Is that a smile, too? Yuri stares after him in awe as the dom leaves. 

For the next few hours, Yuri is too busy to watch the handsome man with the broad shoulders and square jaw. He's smaller than Yuri anticipated, but it doesn't really matter when he looks like he could bench press two Yuris. Oh god, what he would do to be squeezed between those legs. His head would burst like an exploding watermelon, and he would have the best death in history. A close second would be _'choked to death by his cock.'_

But he doesn't dare to hope for that yet. So Yuri stays away, just a little, and sighs from a distance every time he gets the chance to look. 

Oh god, there is the redhead again, but this time with another woman. They both maneuver their way through the crowd until they settle down with Otabek. At least no one is in his lap this time. And even better, the two women seem to be quite infatuated with each other. 

But Yuri isn't looking, of course. That would be unprofessional. Viktor walks past him and winks. Maybe he has been looking a bit. Damn it.

\-- 

Yuri climbs off stage after the show is over. He's sweaty, too warm to be comfortable, even if he's dressed only in well-placed patches of lace. Chris tells him that one of the guests asked for his number, and Yuri flips off the dancer as a stand-in for the ill-mannered guest. 

"If he's not in a suit and doesn’t have dark hair and an undercut, I'm not interested." 

"Well, lucky for you." Yuri quirks a brow. Really? That's how they finally talk? Chris snickers about his apparent surprise and interest. "He's at the bar."

That's all Yuri needs. He's off in a second. In fact, he's hurrying so much, he almost slams into the handsome man. He is so excited, so exhilarated that he doesn't realize the suit color is off until the man turns around. 

"Hello, princess." 

Hell no. Oh, hell, no. Yuri makes a retching noise so the other man knows what he's thinking. "The fuck do you want, creep?" 

"Oh, I liked you better when you were silent and contorting that thin little—" 

Yuri is about to tell him what else he might contort soon, as a loud, stern voice rises above the asshole's gibberish. 

"JEAN." 

The man at the bar flinches, and Yuri flinches with him. Who the fuck would insert themselves into a conversation like this? A dom, probably. One of those assholes who think their subs should be with them always and never talk to others and clean their shoes and—well, right now, Yuri _is_ grateful. Whatever gets _Jean_ off of him without throwing hands. 

He's so caught in his own thoughts, he doesn't even realize _who_ is currently clipping a leash to the collar Yuri hadn't noticed before. 

"I'm sorry. He's such a bad puppy. Never knows when others want to play and when not. I don't mean to assume, but you look uncomfortable. Was he bothering you?" Deep dark tones, vibrating like music and lulling Yuri into a blissful haze already. He wants to hear that voice during aftercare.

Once he manages to free himself of his stupor, there's Otabek, giving him a concerned look. _Jean_ is already on all fours, and … oh god, is he trying to hump his leg?! Otabek pushes him away as if it's nothing. As if it happens to him regularly. Is _Jean_ the type of play partner this god amongst men prefers? Gross. 

He's still staring, and Yuri belatedly realizes he forgot to talk. 

"It's … uhm … fine." Gold, Plisetsky. If there was a podium for pickup lines, he would be the unchallenged award winner. Need to learn to talk to your crush? Yuri Plisetsky is your man. 

But because gods are real and with him tonight, Otabek only tilts his head. "Please, let me make it up to you, whatever he did. I'll buy you a drink." 

THINK QUICK, PLISETSKY. "Uh. Sure." Fucking nailed it. 

"Okay. Let me just return this lost puppy to his owner, and I'll be back here in a minute, okay? Don't walk away. Please." 

Yuri's body is made of lead. He couldn't walk away if Viktor set him on fire. 

VIKTOR! 

While Otabek is retreating, presumably to return the _lost puppy_ to someone that isn't him, god bless, Yuri scans the crowd. Bingo. 

"GEEZER!" Maybe not the nicest way, but it would get Viktor's attention. He perks up like a meerkat, and for once, Yuri is grateful to see him come over. It takes him only a few seconds. "Listen. If you ever loved me, I need you to turn a blind eye in a moment. Do you hear me?" Viktor raises his brow. "Otabek asked to buy me a drink." 

"Then get a mocktail." 

"I will not. Dude. I can't do that. Come on! If he's paying … you aren't selling it to a minor." 

"I am still aware you'll drink it. Which is a no-no." Yuri is about to resort to his last trump card, childlike whining and begging, when Otabek joins their conversation. Or at least, hovers close enough to do so. Viktor turns to him. "Are you going to buy my son a drink?"

"NOT YOUR SON." 

"Uhm. I was just intending to apologize for the misbehavior of—" 

"Because he's a minor." 

"VIKTOR!" 

"Oh." Otabek turns his head and looks at Yuri, obviously taking him in from head to toe. "Sorry, Sir. I didn't know. But … what is he doing in here, then?" 

"I'M RIGHT HERE. AND I'M ONLY A MINOR WHEN IT COMES TO DRINKING AGE. I'M PERFECTLY LEGAL TO BE HERE AND ON STAGE! I'M 20!" 

"Oh, okay." Otabek looks a little more relieved than someone who only wants to order a drink. Good. "I'm not drinking any alcohol, anyway. Yuri?" 

He blinks. Has he told Otabek his name? Yuri isn't sure, but the sudden heat in Otabek's face implies that he, in fact, hasn't. 

"My job here is done. No alcohol for you, Yurochka." Viktor slowly retreats, but Yuri barely notices anymore. 

"You know my name." 

"It's … on the booklet." Otabek pulls out his guidelines and program booklet they give out for bigger parties. It contains information on how and where to play, the program points, and … evidently, Yuri's name under a picture of him dancing on a pole. 

"Okay." Fuck, that was awkward. But what else could he say? 

"I'm Otabek." 

"I know." Oh, shit. What the fuck? His brain is apparently still rebooting. Why is he such a disaster? He usually knows his social media and communication game like the back of his hand, but what the fuck is happening right now? 

"You do?" 

"It's on the entrance ticket." That must be the lamest explanation in the entire world. 

"Okay." 

Maybe, after all, they are meant for each other.

\-- 

"So. You're a …?" 

"Disk jockey." 

"A what?" 

"A DJ." 

Yuri blinks. "You don't look like a DJ." 

"You don't like a burlesque dancer." 

"That's because I'm also a university student. I only dance as a hobby." 

"Well, I only DJ as a hobby." 

"Then you're not a disk jockey." 

"Of course I am. Why wouldn't I be? Are you not a dancer because you also study?" 

Yuri bites his lip. He has a point, but Yuri struggles to admit that. He can't believe he's having this conversation in the middle of a fetish club. Two seats away, someone is getting their asshole stretched, for fuck's sake. 

Otabek seems to notice, too. He clears his throat and turns his head to Yuri again. Is there a hint of red on his cheeks? Cute. Yuri hasn't figured out yet how someone he would like to call _'daddy'_ can be cute when he blushes, but it's right there. 

"So that mutt—" 

"Puppy." 

"Puppy. Wasn't yours?" 

"No. He belongs to a friend. Bella." 

Yuri gives him a pleased grin that he would like to blame on alcohol, but true to Otabek's word, they are only drinking some fancy mocktails. Definitely good enough for Yuri, though, if they are drinking them together. He glances at the group. 

"You seem to have a lot of friends." 

"They … kind of adopted me. I'm their introvert." 

Yuri laughs. He is rewarded with a crinkle around Otabek's eyes and a soft smile. "And who of them adopted you specifically?" 

"All of them, kinda."

"Oh. So this is some sort of poly situation?"

Otabek frowns and turns around, observing the bunch of snickering and laughing people, before it seems to click. "Ooooooh! No. No, no. In that case, none of them adopted me. I'm a stray."

\-- 

It's, without argument, the most tedious and most exciting fetish party he has ever been to. Not because the event itself isn't up to par, but because it's so different from everything he has done before. 

Viktor is quite frankly a terrible host because he tends to forget it's his party in the middle of the night and disappears to play. He's alright, though. Because he makes sure the staff can have fun, too. The only rule says to never leave the bar unattended. Yuri isn't on bar duty because, in the eyes of the law, he's a baby. 

The man in front of him seems to disagree, to Yuri's endless delight. 

They discussed everything. Careers, hobbies, favorite lost places, the best materials for toys, which kind of rope they prefer for bondage. When they agree on neutral fiber, and then on hemp, Yuri is convinced he found his soulmate. 

There is only one problem. Even though the topics are quite sexy and they are literally surrounded by kissing, cuddling, dancing, fucking people … Yuri hasn't managed to shoot his shot yet. And Otabek is beginning to look pretty tired. 

As if Yuri summoned the worst-case scenario, the redhead he now knew as Mila drapes herself over Otabek. "Beeeeks. Let's go home." 

He throws a considering glance at Yuri. Back to Mila. "I'd like to stay a little longer." 

She gives Yuri a once-over and whines again. "If he was interested, he would already be on his kneeeeeees. Come on. He’s probably only using you as a cockblocker for all the salivating old guys." 

"EXCUSE ME?" 

Mila grins at him and shrugs. "Am I wrong?" 

Now Yuri is stuck. He can't really admit he tried to bind Otabek to himself the whole night because he was a parched piece of ass, but he could also not really pretend to only have used him. 

Yuri is thinking for too long. Otabek sighs and begins to stand up. "Well, it was a nice evening, even if I was just the—" 

"NO." 

"Hmm?" 

Yuri wouldn't let him leave like this, thinking he was a stand-in bodyguard. Or worse. 

The redhead raises an eyebrow at him, paired with an amused smirk. "Let me guess." She turns towards Otabek. "You've been drinking all night? And you paid?" 

"I DIDN'T ASK HIM TO!" 

"Maybe not with your lips."

Yuri jumps from his barstool and hisses at her. Who does she think she is? The fact that Otabek steps between them doesn't really change anything. 

"Hey. Yuri, it's okay, I believe you." 

"I don't." Mila leans over his shoulder and sticks out her tongue. She's clearly provoking him. Yuri knows this isn't regular teasing, but he _still_ goes off. 

"LISTEN HERE! IT WAS HIM WHO WANTED TO BUY ME DRINKS!" 

"And you can't say no to free bevera—" 

"I CAN'T SAY NO TO HIM!" Yuri is fuming so hard, he doesn't realize what he just said. Until Mila's face turns into an all-teeth grin. 

"You're welcome." She pats Otabek's back and then winks at Yuri. "It was so painful to watch you guys. Honestly. All that doe-eyed staring and the _'casual'_ touches. We wondered if you would start talking about the weather before one of you losers admitted you want each other. But worry no more, the cat is out of the bag now. And Yuri, just to keep the playing field even, Beks has been talking about _NOTHING_ else the last few weeks. Not since he's seen you dancing. He's so gay for you." 

She shakes her head. "Anyway. Sara is waiting for me. If you come home tonight, I'll throw eggs at your door." Mila smacks Otabek's ass and is gone as quickly as she entered the conversation. 

Huh. 

For a moment, Yuri wishes he could disappear, melt into the floor, because _oh god, how embarrassing was this._ But then he notices how red and uncomfortable Otabek is, and suddenly Yuri feels a little better. 

"So. Uhm. We … kinda both seem to have a crush on each other?" 

"Yeah?" 

"And your … friend made me yell at her just so I would confess?" 

"She's unorthodox." 

"I suppose." Both of them just stand there for a moment, caught between sitting and moving. Yuri is the first to talk again. "So, uhm, do you … want to mess me up or something?" 

Otabek sighs as if he has been holding his breath for ten minutes. Then, quietly, "Fuck, yeah."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yuri got himself a date with the handsome man! What can go wrong?  
> What do you think so far? What do you wish for?  
> I'm super excited to hear from you! 
> 
> Thank you for reading!  
> I'm also on  
> tumblr: https://www.tumblr.com/blog/venom-for-free  
> instagram: https://www.instagram.com/venom_for_free/  
> or twitter: https://twitter.com/venom_for_free


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Recap chapter one: Otabek and Yuri meet, they dance around each other, JJ pulls Yuri to the side and leads to Otabek and Yuri getting to know each other better. They are a little dense, so Mila helps them out.

It's as if they flipped a switch. After another half an hour at the bar, rules and limits are negotiated, then Otabek takes him to one of the private rooms. Yuri is a show-off slut, but not during first sessions, and Otabek agrees. 

He's glad Viktor is gone already, or he would be So. Fucking. Smug. 

Otabek guides them to an empty playroom. There are mirrored walls all around, and Yuri knows the round leather bed can spin. He has to praise Otabek's choice of room for picking the one with the leopard rug. 

There are no sheets, that would be unsanitary. Always present on the nightstand: disinfectant, lube, and a big bowl of condoms. And tissues. The light is low and indirect. Some rooms glow warmer, some cooler. It sets the mood. Through a door, they can enter an adjoining bathroom with a shower, blow-drier, and an abundance of towels. 

Everything is squeaky clean, Viktor makes very sure of that. It ensures the guests come back. 

Yuri enters, steps over the rug, curls his hand around the pole in the middle of the room. It would fit eight people, easily, if they all huddled together on the bed. But this is a private show. He wants to turn around and push Otabek.  Yuri walks up to him, hands already raised to take action, but the hand in his hair stops him. It doesn't yank, not yet, but it's much tighter coiled around his strands then he expected. Good. Very good. 

"The door isn't closed yet, so I'll forget what you were just about to do. But in here, I'm the boss. Understood?" 

Yuri shivers and grins. Otabek takes this seriously. How pleasant. He even does this thing where his voice drops. "Yes." 

The grip tightens, and now there is a little yanking involved. "Yes, what?" 

Yuri is hardening already. He knows he needs a firm hand, and it's been too long since someone properly forced some sense into him. Viktor likes to call him a brat. He's right. Yuri grins a little wider. "Yes, sir." 

Otabek opens his fingers, and Yuri almost mourns the loss of his tight grip. But then, the hand drops and curls around his neck. It's intimate. It's possessive. It's the best thing Yuri felt all night. So far. "Good boy." 

Yuri's spine tickles, and there’s a burning around his knees as his body instinctively tries to force him down and kneel. "Thank you, sir." He doesn't know what will happen. They didn't pre-negotiate a scene. But they discussed hard and soft limits extensively. And fantasies. Otabek was a little surprised when Yuri explicitly told him to be rough, but he nodded and told him  _ 'I can do that.'  _

It's all just a big game, after all. 

Otabek kicks the door closed without ungluing himself from Yuri, then begins to walk forward until the cold metal of the pole presses against Yuri's back. He arches into Otabek's warmth and the guidance he provides. Yuri wants to lean up for a kiss, but the hand around his neck holds him in place. 

"Did I say you could do that?" 

"You don't say much at all." There's his self-satisfied grin again, and he hopes it riles Otabek up. But the hand around his neck drops, and Otabek takes a step back, giving his partner a once over. 

What the fuck? Has he reconsidered? Is he suddenly too good for Yuri? Will he leave now? Yuri raises his own hand and places it around his throat. He's not thinking about it, but it feels better to have some semblance of the touch back that was just taken away from him. Otabek's lips tick into the tiniest of smiles, and suddenly Yuri is very aware of what he's doing and curses himself as he lowers his hand in shame. 

"I will not punish you for good behavior. But I also won't reward you for bad behavior." 

What the hell? But that's how it works! He is a brat, and Otabek is supposed to spank his ass red. Yuri frowns. The rules are easy enough. 

The dom shakes his head as if he can read Yuri's thoughts. "No funishment, sweetheart. Either you submit properly to me, and you'll be rewarded with what you need, or you get punished for resisting. But it won't be a punishment you like." 

Yuri growls quietly. "I like every punishment." 

"Oh yeah?" 

"Yeah." 

Otabek grins and settles on the bed. He spreads his legs and then pats his thighs. "Well, in that case, come here and accept yours for talking back." 

Yuri smirks again. This is better. He climbs onto Otabek's lap and lies flat across his thighs. "Like this?" 

"Yes. See, you can be a good boy." Otabek scratches his head, and Yuri is a little embarrassed because of how much he likes it. He's not a good boy. He's a very, very bad boy that needs to be punished! 

Which is why he decides to turn his head and snap at Otabek's fingers. 

The dom withdraws his hand quickly and looks a little startled. "Ahh. You're one of those." 

That doesn't sit well. "What do you mean, ‘ _ one of those _ ’?! I'm me! No one is like me! Now stop this  _ 'good boy' _ shit and spank me!"

Otabek exhales, and Yuri could swear it sounds disappointed. But a puff of air surely can't contain that much emotion, right? 

"I'm not going to spank you, Yuri. I'm not a service top. I'm going to do what I please to do, within the strict confinements of our agreements. I'm not taking orders from you. If that's what you want, you should leave right now, and spend your time chasing some pseudo-dominant who can't wait to bow to your wishes and lets you top from the bottom. I won't do that. If you want to leave with that knowledge in mind, no hard feelings." 

Something cold settles in his chest. Is Otabek throwing him out?! Just because he has specific ideas of what a scene should be like? Fuck him. Fuck this guy. 

"Well, FINE. No hard feelings. I'll see you around, fucker!" He scrambles off Otabek's lap and leaves. Yuri makes sure to throw the door closed behind himself. 

He can't deal with that right now. First, Otabek acts all dominant and strong, and now he won't even spank him? Fuck that guy.

\-- 

Except, no. That's not what happens. 

Yuri is angry for the rest of the party, barely interacts with anyone. He does not find what Otabek called a service top but instead returns to his duties. There's probably some room that needs cleaning. Something that has to be done. He doesn't want to be confronted with kink now. But it doesn't stop there. At home, coiled tightly around himself, he wonders where they went wrong. Potya won't tell him. He asked a few times. 

It's weird. They liked each other well enough, didn't they? They talked for most of the night, and it would have been enough for Yuri to call it a successful party. 

But then, that happened. 

He hisses into the darkness. Otabek is just a pretentious asshole. There is no way he knows better than Yuri about what he needs. And he needed a spanking. 

Potya soon is annoyed with his constant tossing and turning. It's a testament to how much he struggles to fall asleep when he hears the other Yuri and Viktor coming home at 7 in the morning. Yuri went to bed at 4. 

\-- 

"Cheer up, Yurio. The party was fun." 

"Not my name. Not my father. And the party was shit." 

"Huh?" Viktor leans back and raises his eyebrows. "You seemed content enough last time I saw you. Wait, was it Otabek? Oh my God, did he pull something?!" 

"No, he didn't. Back off!" Yuri curses and tries to take his cereal to his room to eat there, but Viktor stops him. 

"What is it? Small dick? Too arrogant? Did he ask for something even you didn't want to do?" Despite his attempt to sound humorous, Viktor's eyes are cold. 

"No." Yuri gives up. He slumps back down, accidentally spilling some milk. "None of those." 

"Then what?" 

"Then NOTHING." 

"Yura, I can't force you to talk to me. But—" 

"No, you dense old man. Literally. Then nothing. He didn't do anything with me." 

Viktor blinks and leans back a little, maybe to take Yuri in. "You're pissed because he ditched you?" 

"No! I ditched him!" 

"And you're angry about that?" 

"Yes!" 

"Why?" 

"It's his fault!" 

"That makes no sense." 

"I KNOW!" Yuri is holding himself upright on two outstretched arms, palms pressed flat on the table. He's looming over Viktor like a storm approaching too fast to secure the potted plants in the garden. 

Viktor is entirely unfazed. "I don't get it." 

"NEITHER. DO. I!" 

"Hey, guys. Can you maybe not scream?" The other Yuri slumps into the third chair. He's holding a remote in his hand, but the TV is off. For a second, Yuri wonders why, but then his roommate tries to text with it, only stopping when Viktor pries it from his hands to exchange it with a banana. For a moment, Katsuki seems confused. "I can't text with that …" Instead of eating it, as Viktor probably intended when he handed it over, his husband simply puts his head on the table. 

"Hangover, my gold?" 

"Yeah." 

"You barely drank anything." 

"Yeah." 

Viktor snickers, knowing what else probably put his husband into his exhausted mindscape. 

"AND THAT'S WHERE I LEAVE." 

"Noooo!" Viktor pouts up at him. "You can't just leave like that, Yura. What happened?" 

The other Yuri raises his head long enough to throw it around, so he can stare at his self-proclaimed adoptive son. "Bad night?" 

Viktor, unable not to be the center of attention for half a minute, leans over and stage-whispers, "Otabek dumped him." 

"NO, HE DID NOT." 

"Okay,  _ fine. _ Yura dumped  _ him.  _ But apparently, he has second thoughts." 

"I DO NOT." 

"Why are you moping then?" Katsuki pokes him with a chubby finger, barely able to keep his eyes open, but invested enough to participate in bullying him. 

"AM NOT." 

Viktor laughs. "Sure, Yurio. But if you don't want to talk to your dads—" 

"NOT MY NAME! NOT MY FATHER! AND  _ YOU _ ARE SHIT!"

\-- 

Yuri is back in his room, but he finds no calmness. He's tossing and turning, not because he's trying to sleep, but because his body tries to find an outlet for the agitation. 

He shouldn't have left. Yuri suspected that already, just yesterday when he was finally home, and the anger was gone, filling the crevice of his chest no longer. There was hollowness back then, there's frustration now. 

Why is he even still thinking about it? He should forget Otabek. They are obviously not compatible. But … urgh. They seemed to be back at the bar. And didn’t Yuri pick him because he looked determined not to let others boss him around? Fuck. Maybe Yuri should have tried. But that would be boring. What kind of punishment would he even give, if not pain? 

He can't stop wondering about it. Yuri's thoughts return to the dom again and again. For half a day, he tries to distract himself. Cleans his room, which he hasn't done in half a year, throws out old make-up and clothes, brushes Potya, and does some stretches. 

Well. 

When he crawls into bed that evening, he isn't feeling better at all. But at least he studied two chapters for next week. Or at least, tried to. He probably forgot everything already, if he's honest with himself. His mind returns to Otabek. Otabek. Otabek. Is this the painless punishment he promised? 

Fuck. 

Maybe Yuri just has to get him out of his system. He ushers Potya into the living room and locks his door. This'll work. He's pretty sure. 

Eyes closed, blinds drawn. Yuri needs total darkness for this fantasy. 

_ He's back in the playroom. Yuri can almost feel the leopard rug beneath his feet. The leather bed against his back. No, wait. That makes no sense. He imagines Otabek's body heat. Yuri is lying across his lap. Ass in the air.  _

Yuri rolls over and lifts his hips. Tries to repeat what he sees behind closed lids, but he's missing the muscular legs to rest on. 

_ He pulls down his underwear—no, no— _ **_Otabek_ ** _ pulls down his underwear. Yeah. That's it. _

Yuri reaches behind himself, trails cold fingers over his entrance. Dry, clenching tight. It feels wrong. Otabek's hand would be different. He reaches for the nightstand. Lube is applied quickly, and Yuri rubs his own hands to warm them up. Repeat. 

_ Otabek pulls down his underwear, trails over his entrance. He licks his fingers and brushes them over the pink skin. Yuri shivers.  _

_ "I've been a bad boy, Daddy. You have to punish me."  _

_ "Yeah?" It's his rich, warm tone that drives Yuri's blood south.  _

_ "Yeah."  _

He's stroking himself slowly. This isn't meant to be over too soon. If he wants to get rid of Otabek, he'll have to be thorough. 

_ Otabek's hand lands on his ass, and Yuri giggles. He pushes back, chasing the touch. Just the right side of painful.  _

_ "Oh, Daddy. I've been so so so bad …"  _

_ "Yeah, baby?"  _

_ "Yeah."  _

His fantasy is dull, repetitive. Otabek has an easy script. He's just a prop. Yuri is calling the shots. But it will get him off. So he doesn't mind. 

Yuri spanks his own ass. It's not the same, but his balls draw tight, anyway. He's not picky in his fantasies and how he gets off. 

_ Otabek spanks him again. And again. And again. His hand keeps lingering over Yuri's center, and from time to time, Otabek parts his cheeks, to rub a long, thin finger—no, a shorter but more girthy finger— right over where Yuri needs him.  _

_ "Daddy …"  _

_ "Have you been good?"  _

_ Yuri giggles. "No."  _

_ He's getting more spanks, one sharper than the last, the lingering hand nudging closer and closer between his cheeks.  _

Yuri is panting now. He's two fingers deep in his own ass, and whenever he pulls them back, he pulls them out. To give himself another slap. Then back in. The hand around his base tightens. He isn't allowed to cum yet. But the pain, the brushing over his prostate … it makes it hard not to. 

_ "Daddy, you need to teach me how to be a good boy."  _

_ "Yeah?"  _

_ "Yeah, Daddy."  _

_ Otabek shoves him off of his lap and onto the floor. He opens his pants and whips out what Yuri had only felt the outline of, but was already salivating over.  _

_ "Show me how sorry you are."  _

There's a nice, long toy in Yuri's nightstand to lick. He can even suction it to the wall, so his hands can return to where they belong. On his dick and in his ass. He begins to lap at the silicone. The first few times he felt dumb. But once he figured out his brain didn't care anymore when it was dark, Yuri welcomed the weird birthday gift from Phichit. 

_ "That's a good boy. So good for Daddy. Do you want to have a treat? Yeah? Do you want Daddy to reward you, baby?"  _

_ He groans and takes Otabek deeper into his throat, humming around him to show Otabek that he really wants it. Then Otabek pulls back. Drags his wet cock over Yuri's face, just because he can.  _

_ "Get on your hands and knees, ass up for me."  _

Another slap as Yuri turns around on his bed. He opened himself enough. Without seeing it, he was sure his dick was purpling by now. Yuri was hard as a rock and desperate. He pinches his own nipples just because he hopes Otabek would do so, too. Maybe put little chains on them. Maybe bite. 

He pushes back, easing himself onto the toy. One hand on his nipples, the other between his legs, pumping him at an almost maddening pace. Quick, but not quick enough. 

_ Otabek starts to fuck into him, but he takes it slow. He's a gentleman. Once he bottoms out, he even waits for Yuri's signal to move. But after that … it's a steadily climbing crescendo of moans and whines and slapping skin. He's free, and he expresses it. Otabek squeezes his dick while he fucks him, doesn't want it to be over just yet.  _

_ But Yuri doesn't listen to anyone, not really. He grins and leans back over his shoulder, so he can see Otabek's face when it happens.  _

_ "Daddy."  _

_ And Yuri cums all over the leather bed.  _

But it's not the leather bed, it's his linen sheets that he can't wipe down. He came on a silicone toy, not real flesh. The night hugging him now is cold, unlike Otabek's embrace promised to be. 

He slumps forward and onto the sheets, but the wet sensation against his stomach makes him regret it instantly. Within moments, the post-orgasmic bliss is gone, and regret is all Yuri feels.

\-- 

He doesn't sleep well. The sheets are wet, and he's lonely, and he can't stop himself from thinking about the beautiful man he left behind in favor of …

In favor of what? Yuri isn't even sure why he left anymore. Was it that unreasonable of Otabek to demand the power? On the other hand, Yuri has been taught that the sub is actually the one holding all the power, safe word, and everything. And brats are supposed to be … well, bratty. So he wasn't wrong to walk away when Otabek denied him. Right?

But for some reason, it doesn't feel like that when the next weekend comes, and Otabek is nowhere to be seen.

Fuck.

Yuri convinced himself over the last week that they can talk it out and learn from each other, evaluate where the problems are, and start anew. He did not, however, plan for Otabek to go missing suddenly.

His friends are there, so it's not like they all moved on after the disastrous party. The great party. Yuri has to remind himself that it was only a disaster for him, but everyone else was super happy. He could have been happy, too. And that thought is nagging him.

"Wow. I didn't think you would stare when he's not even in the club." Viktor laughs and leans over the bar. "You have it bad for him, huh?"

"Shut the fuck up, old man."

"Is that how you talk to your dom?"

"You're not my dom. Or my father, before you try that approach. I'm not respecting you just because you chose a certain position and declared yourself fit for it."

Viktor chuckles, the fucking dick. "You really must be pissed. It's cute."

"Fuck you. Go die in a pit of venomous snakes."

"Nah. I'll pass. If I'm dead, I can't be sure I can keep watching you pine. And that would be a big loss."

Yuri rolls his eyes and pushes away. He goes and checks the bathrooms for any issues he can possibly find. Whatever it is. Just no more Viktor. No more staring at the spot where Otabek should be.

The only offending object he finds is a smudged mirror. Someone wrote  _ 'smile for your master' _ with red lipstick. Yuri scowls at it and wipes it away with more vigor than necessary. He has no master. There's no reason to smile.

Usually, being petty makes him feel better. But when the mirror is clean again, and he can still see bitterness lining his face, Yuri has to admit to himself that this is different.

He has to talk to Otabek. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Now you know why it is called _Second_ Impact ♥  
> I hope you liked the chapter ♥   
> Please let me know what you think! 
> 
> Thank you for reading!  
> I'm also on  
> tumblr: https://www.tumblr.com/blog/venom-for-free  
> instagram: https://www.instagram.com/venom_for_free/  
> or twitter: https://twitter.com/venom_for_free


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Recap Chapter two: They fuck up their session because they are too stubborn to communicate. Viktor and Katsuki try to help. Yuri tries masturbation as a coping method, but he is only partially successful. Yuri struggles to let go of the issue, even when he is back in the club.

It's Wednesday, and he's home alone. The other Yuri and Viktor are out on some sort of disgusting, sappy date, so Yuri is left to his own devices. This means he'll spend the night using every kind of toy he can think about that is too loud to use when someone else is around. 

It's not really a secret. That he touches himself, that Yuri plays with toys, that his gay not-dads fuck like rabbits. But the fact that they are quite open about  _ discussing _ it doesn't mean they enjoy  _ hearing  _ it live. 

The worst thing is, Yuri is 80 percent sure Viktor gets off on being listened to. No, scratch that. The actual worst thing is, Yuri is 100 percent sure he sometimes likes to listen. 

When it's Katsuki. 

But as soon as he can hear  _ Viktor _ , muttering Yuri's name in that dumb, silky, sexy tone … no. He can't stand the idea of his body betraying him like that. Because even  _ if _ he keeps denying it, Viktor  _ has _ some sort of fatherly role in his life. He's too much on the  _ 'dad' _ side of  _ 'daddy.' _ So it's headphones on Yuri's part whenever he needs them. Good thing Viktor splurged on noise cancellation. 

Today, though, he's free of that. No hiding, no mumbling into pillows, or biting his own hand. Yuri will be loud, he decides. It's a declaration to his freedom and self-love, and the fact that he wakes every morning with a raging hard-on after explicit dreams of sucking cock. One cock in particular, even though he hasn't yet seen it. 

His blinds are drawn, and the light is out. This time, Yuri brought towels so he doesn't have to sleep in a wet patch all night. It's the little things. 

This is going to take a while, he decides. He wants to focus on the sensation. Maybe he should get some music. Yeah. That'll set the mood just right. 

He pulls up a playlist with songs that are supposed to be sexy. 

**"Let me love you" — Mario**

What the hell? He wants to fuck, not cry in a bathroom stall. Yuri presses the  _ 'next' _ button. 

**"Preach" — John Legend**

Oh wow. Now he's trapped in the backseat of a car pulling up to church? Why would someone put a song into a playlist about sex that starts with  **_'Every day I wake and/ everything is broken/ turnin' off my phone just to get out of bed'_ ** ? Who wants to hear depressive thoughts during sex?! 

_ 'Next.' _

**"Crazy in Love (Remix)" — Beyoncé**

The song is slow and drags on. It starts with moaning, which is always a good idea. Finally. Yuri closes his eyes. His hands wander to the hem of his sweater and pull it up, carefully, following the lazy drag of the music. 

_ Everything is going well. It's dark, and there he is, already naked, writhing over satin sheets. Otabek is watching him, still in that terribly sexy suit. He has his legs open and his lips curved into a smile. There's a glass of something dark and heavy in his palm, maybe rum, maybe scotch. Yuri has no idea, but it looks good.  _

_ Yuri's head is draped over the edge of the bed, and he watches Otabek while his hands slide over his own body. Teasing. Tantalizing.  _

**_'I look and stare so deep in your eyes/ I touch on you more and more every time'_ **

_ Otabek gets up and walks over, too drawn into Yuri's movements to resist. He settles on the bed, hands outstretched to touch the soft, pliant body.  _

**_'When you leave, I'm begging you not to go/ Call your name two, three times in a row'_ **

_ He's suddenly back in the playroom with the rug and the leather bed, satin sheets gone. This time, it's Otabek leaving, not him, and Yuri is lying there, naked and alone, calling out to him.  _

**_'Such a funny thing for me to try to explain/ How I'm feeling and my pride is the one to blame'_ **

Holy shit. Who authorized this? Yuri snaps his eyes open, but there's still darkness. He fumbles for his phone.  _ Next song, next song, next song, now!  _

**_'Cause I know I don't understand/ Just how your love can do what no one else can'_ **

Who the fuck even wrote this? How dare they? And how do they even know about Yuri's situation? That's illegal, isn't it? He doesn't care that the song is from 2003. Someone is out to get him. 

_ 'Next'  _

**"Skin" — Rihanna**

It's another song that starts with a slower rhythm. But it doesn't drag as much. Good. He wants things to start already. 

His hands are back under his sweater. The first verse is kind to him. Close enough to relate but abstract enough to forget what actually happened. Yuri pushes the material up to his neck. His upper body is exposed now, and the cold night air is kissing his skin, but in his mind, it's someone else. 

The chorus arrives quicker than expected, but he won't complain. His hands are on his nipples, hard from the chill and his touch. 

**_'No teasin'/ You waited long enough/ Go deep/ I'mma throw it at ya/ Can't catch it/ Don't hold back/ You know I like it rough/ Know I'm feelin' ya, huh/ Know you liking it, huh'_ **

_ Back on the satin sheets. Otabek is over him now. The glass is gone, and he's getting drunk on Yuri instead. Lips are teasing his nipples, a tongue licking them, teeth sinking into soft skin. His mouth trails further down, following the natural line of Yuri’s torso. Otabek takes his time, but Yuri squirms. He wants more. When teeth nip around his belly button, Yuri groans so loud, Otabek laughs. Tells him what a good slut he is. Yuri turns red—from arousal, not embarrassment.  _

He likes the idea of being teased, technically. He also likes the idea of getting what he wants. Which is, why masturbation can be such a nice thing to him. It’s the best of both worlds. But right now, it feels almost hollow. Yuri tries not to think too much about it and focuses on the music instead, leading to soft hands over his body. 

**_'So why you standing over there with ya clothes on/ Baby strip down for me'_ **

_ Teeth along Yuri's hip bone and his hands in Otabek's hair. They wander down over warm skin, play with the collar of his dress shirt, open buttons with haste, not accuracy.  _

Yuri copies what he imagines Otabek would do. Should do. Maybe his hands stray a little more than usual, just to add character. There is tugging on his hair, and for a second, he almost manages to pretend that it isn’t his own hand. Then, his nail catches on a strand of hair and he is back to listening to the music. 

**_'Goin' take 'em off/ Don't worry baby/ I'mma meet you halfway/ 'Cause I know you wanna see me'_ **

_ Otabek lets him. Before long, Yuri has his broad chest exposed. Hands over strong muscles, larger hands over his legs, they meet on each other's hips when they roll against each other.  _

Yuri moans. This is good. This feels nice. His brain is too lazy to come up with more flowery words, but that's fine, it's not his brain he needs right now. He discards his sweater just as dream-Yuri pulls off Otabek's shirt. Fuck, he wants to feel him, skin on skin. Yuri is sure Otabek is a fucking furnace. 

He's gone in his thoughts, hand shoved between himself and the constricting jeans Yuri hasn't taken off yet. He likes the pressure, the edge of desperation. Yuri palms himself to the beat of the music, and for a moment, he forgets he's not really in that room, that it's not really Otabek's hand between his legs. 

When the pants get too tight, he opens the button and pulls down the fly. Now, the delicious pressure is gone, so why keep the pants on at all? Yuri tugs them off, along with his socks. He's left in boxer shorts, but the thin layer of cotton does nothing to muffle how desperate his touch is already. 

_ Otabek is between his legs, hands on Yuri's thighs, keeping them apart. He's biting the inside of Yuri's thighs, making him squirm even more. There's a tingling in his spine, and he arches up, trying to guide his hard dick towards Otabek's face. Yuri is begging to be sucked, but he doesn't use words. He never uses words to beg. That fucks with the perception of a lot of doms. Which makes him happy in return.  _

_ But Otabek is different. Otabek likes to please him when Yuri asks. At least, this Otabek does. He sucks on the pink cock, just as he was silently told, but … it doesn't do much for Yuri.  _

He frowns. What? Usually, Yuri loves getting his dick sucked, especially when he asks for it. Sweet reward. But this scene is all wrong. 

Yuri rearranges the mental scene to the music. 

**_'No heels / No shirt/ No skirt/ All I'm in is just skin/ No jeans/ Take em off/ Wanna feel your skin/ You a beast, oh/ You know that I like that/ Come on baby/ All I wanna see you in is just skin'_ **

_ Yuri is on Otabek's lap. They are both naked now, and Otabek looks breathtaking. He holds Yuri's face, gently kisses his jaw. Their lower bodies collide in waves, crashing into each other again and again. They are almost like fluid in the way they move together, tiding and ebbing.  _

_ Biting his own lip, Yuri leans forward. Steals a kiss. Otabek scolds him. He's a naughty kitten. Yuri’s cock twitches from the thought alone.  _

His underwear is gone, and Yuri doesn't realize how intensely he is drawing his eyebrows together. He wants to cum, but not yet. Otabek is supposed to fuck him properly. Yuri has all those toys prepared. 

**_'All in baby/ Don't hold nothing back/ Wanna take control/ Ain't nothing wrong with that/ Say you liking how I feel/ Ain't gotta tell me that/ Just put your skin baby on my skin'_ **

Yuri cums with a strangled gasp and half a finger in his ass. Fuck. Fuck, fuck fuck FUCK fuck. That's not how he planned his night. At all. He's shivering, suddenly cold again as the puddle on his stomach spreads with every ragged breath. He planned to edge himself. To tease. To take himself apart and be loud and deny himself until he cums so hard, he slips into a coma-like sleep. Instead, he's lying there, breath stolen from shock, not unrestricted arousal. He came, yes, but at what cost? Yuri is no longer thirteen. He has a refractory period now. 

He wants to wipe his hand off, but the towel is still clean. Testimony to how fucking lame he is. Tissues will have to do. 

Now Yuri stares at the ceiling. That fucking song is still playing. It wasn't even four minutes then. He planned all night for this. But instead of enjoying himself, he now has a damp stomach and multiple questions. What exactly pushed him over the edge? And why like this? Where is his overwhelming, mind-numbing pleasure? Why can't he stop thinking about Otabek? He must be the problem, Yuri decides. 

**_'You know that I like that/ Come on baby/ All I wanna see you in is just skin'_ **

\-- 

It takes two more weeks of Yuri running up and down the club, looking left and right, and hating himself at the end of the night for him to find Otabek again. 

The way his shirt sticks to his abs is almost as promising as the big bag he's carrying around. Yuri can't believe he almost got to learn about the content but blew his chance. When the alternative would have been so much more compelling. 

It's all the fault of his dumb pride. He could have waited for those spanks instead of demanding them. But he didn't, and now, Yuri learns there is in fact a thing that's worse than not seeing Otabek. 

Which is seeing Otabek with someone else. 

Objectively, Yuri has to admit the boy is pretty. Not as pretty as him, but Otabek doesn't have many options left other than to downgrade after him. 

Objectively. 

Viktor laughs about him polishing a glass for the third time. "You aren't even allowed behind the bar." 

"And you aren't even allowed in the proximity of children's playgrounds, yet I can see you licking the seats of the swings." 

"EW, WHAT THE HECK, YURI?!" Admittedly, that joke was tasteless, even for him. He's about to turn around and apologize to Viktor, but—"You're only saying that because you can't lick  _ that _ seat over there." He juts his chin in Otabek's direction. 

And okay, Viktor has a point, but fuck him. 

Yuri slams the glass down and settles on a sofa far enough from Otabek and his boytoy, but not close enough to be considered a creep. Except the redhead grins in his direction and fuck, what is she telling Otabek? Why does he have to follow her lead? And why is Yuri blushing and turning away as if someone found him with his hands in the cookie jar? Like a guilty fucking idiot? 

Uuurgh. 

He could have dealt with all of that, but then the pet boy turns, too, and gives Yuri a triumphant smile. And that fucks with him. Because he didn’t know this was a competition, but he does now. And Yuri never turns down a challenge. So he jumps up and hurries backstage. It might look like a retreat. For a moment. But they'll see. They'll fucking see. 

Half an hour later, he's back. Pressed into a highly uncomfortable but incredibly sexy outfit. There. Now the bitch won't grin anymore. The stockings itch, and one keeps sliding, the corset is crushing his ribs. It wasn't designed with a male physique in mind, but fuck everything, he looks good. 

Yuri prances on stage with a cocky grin. Otabek likes his show. He attended it before, he will attend it now. So Yuri's dancing like crazy, spinning and contorting like the slutty ballerina he was born to be. When the song ends, he can barely breathe, but he's proud. There is so much applause. But when his eyes return to the sitting group, Otabek's place is empty. The boy is gone, too. In their place, the weird puppy and his pretty girlfriend clap. Yuri spots the redhead giving him a small shrug, her mouth twitching into a pitiful frown. 

Too late.

\-- 

Yuri is sitting on the kitchen floor when the light is turned on. He hisses and covers his eyes.

"Oh, sorry! I didn't know you were here!" The Katsuki turns the light off again, before he cautiously approaches Yuri's kneeling figure."What are you doing?"

"Drinkin'." Yuri shakes the wine bottle in his hand. The sloshing suggests a low fill even to his own ears. Fuck. He hasn't meant to go overheard like this. It's not even his wine.

"Do you want company?"

Yuri didn't expect that, but oh well. The other Yuri is always good for surprises. "Sure."

He settles down on the cold concrete floor next to him and stretches his hand out expectantly. "If you’re going to drink our wine, let me at least have a taste."

For a while, they silently share the bottle.

"Aren't you going to get in trouble with your master if you hang out with me instead of going back to bed?" Yuri knows Viktor is demanding. He also knows he is slurring a little.

But the other man only smiles. "He's less strict with me when it's about you. Keeps telling me a boy needs both of his parents." The bastard giggles when Yuri elbows him. Katsuki is a quick, messy drunk. "So, why are we drinking on the kitchen floor at five in the morning on a Sunday?"

"Because our shift ends at four."

"And you've downed all that in … an hour?"

"Half an hour. I waited until Viktor and you were in bed." A head falls on Yuri’s shoulder. He'd bite his tongue off before admitting it, but … it's nice. He leans his own head down, too. It's awkward. Katsuki is taller than him, but none of them mentions the discomfort.

"It's about Otabek, isn't it?"

"I thought you came to drink, not to talk?"

"I can't do both?"

"Not if you want to be allowed to stay."

"You're not my dom." Katsuki grins, Yuri can feel his face move against his shoulder.

"Hell no. I'm no one's dom."

The bottle is taken from him, and Katsuki hums in agreement as he drinks. "You're too self-focused to be a good dom."

"Fuck you."

Katsuki shrugs and hands the bottle back. "Don't kill the messenger. It's true, and you know it. I'm not calling you egoistic or anything. But do you really think you could take care of a sub?"

Silence, then wine sloshing as Yuri drinks a gulp, if only to stall his answer. "I'm not even sure I can take care of myself. That's what doms are for, aren't they? Look at you. You were a mess before Viktor."

He feels Katsuki laugh more than he hears it. "That's your explanation? You're a mess before you find your dom?"

"No." Yuri is suddenly painfully aware of the cold creeping into his bones from the tiled floor. "I'm a mess because I ran from him."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yuri is still trying to masturbate his pain away. But now, there is a bigger issue.   
> What do you think is going on? And who is the other guy? 
> 
> Thank you for reading!  
> I'm also on  
> tumblr: https://www.tumblr.com/blog/venom-for-free  
> instagram: https://www.instagram.com/venom_for_free/  
> or twitter: https://twitter.com/venom_for_free


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Recap Chapter three: Yuri still tries to masturbate his pain away, this time with a playlist and equal success. He finally finds Otabek in the club again, but as it turns out he is no longer alone. Katsuki finds him drinking on the floor, they share a bottle of wine and talk. Yuri realizes he probably shouldn’t have run away.

Maybe he should start dating. Someone else, obviously, because Otabek is  _ still _ hanging out with that weasel. By now, Yuri is sure the other guy is provoking him on purpose. He doesn't know what they told him, but Mila keeps laughing in Yuri's direction whenever the tiny thing does anything  _ 'cute.' _ Or wraps himself around Otabek. Or lets Otabek feed him. Seriously, who does that? 

Yuri wants to do that. 

Do they have to flirt constantly? What the fuck? This is a BDSM club, not a dimly lit corner restaurant booth. As if he heard Yuri's thoughts, the boy slides off of Otabek's lap and crawls between his legs. 

If he starts blowing him in the middle of the crowd, Yuri will fucking leave for the night. He doesn't care who's cleaning later. But the sub only nudges his head against Otabek's leg and smiles up, before lowering his head respectfully. Blissfully. Calmly. Patiently. When Otabek begins to play with his hair, he looks up again to smile. Otabek doesn't even stop talking to Mila. It's outrageous. 

Yuri doesn't know how to feel. There's an obviously interested, attractive sub between his legs. And Otabek keeps ignoring him. Well, not ignoring, but—it's like a car crash. Yuri can't stop staring, even when Mila is giving him  _ that  _ look again. 

Why is Otabek ignoring the guy? Why is the boy content with it? Katsuki's words ring in his head. 

_ "You're too self-focused to be a good dom." _

Yuri already knew that. But when he sees how happy that guy is once Otabek turns to him, how he hops up with a spring in his step, and how he almost runs to the playrooms when Otabek nods in that direction, that's when Yuri wonders, Is he too self-focused to be a good sub, too?

\-- 

Drinking alone on the kitchen floor is a terrible new habit he has to get rid of before it actually forms. Still, fuck, does it express his despair well. And another self-focused jerk-off session just doesn't cut it. He tried. Apparently, you can masturbate horniness away, but not longing. Thanks for nothing, world. 

This time, it's Viktor who finds him. It's around five, and the sick bastard wanted to go for a morning jog. Their shift ended an hour ago, and Yuri is well aware of how his not-dads spent the time in between. The kitchen does not have noise cancellation. What he doesn't understand is how Viktor can want to do anything active after basically exorcising Katsuki. He's a morning person, yes, and he'll crash into a four-hour afternoon nap, but … why not sleep now? 

"Oh." 

"I'm not here." 

Viktor crouches down next to him. "Yes, you are. And so am I. What's going on?" 

"I liked Katsuki better." 

"Do you want me to get him?" 

Yuri groaned. "Can you stop being considerate for a minute? By the way, I emptied your—" He turns the bottle and reads the label, "Hartford Old Vine Zinfandel, Russian River Valley, 2016." 

Viktor shakes his head and leans over to inspect the bottle. "That's not how you quote the name of a wine, you can't just read the label it's—" 

"KATSUKI?!" 

"YEEEEEAHHH?" His voice is muffled and tired, but to his credit, he tries. 

"I DON'T WANT TO TALK TO VIKTOR! HE'S CRITICISING ME!" 

Next to him, Viktor winces. "Stop that. It's the middle of the night!" 

"You are the one who wanted to go running." 

The other Yuri actually trudges into the kitchen. He's wearing his underwear inside out, an incorrectly buttoned shirt Yuri is pretty sure he saw on Viktor earlier, and has bright red marks over his thighs. With as little grace as humanly possible, he collapses onto Viktor's lap. "Don't criticize him. He's struggling." 

Viktor gathers his husband against himself with so much affection and unadulterated love, Yuri feels like he should look away. "Are you sure it's not  _ you _ who's struggling? You should rest." 

"You are mean to our son. I have to help." Katsuki gives Viktor a soft smile, then turns his head towards Yuri. "No protests this time?"

Yuri sniffles and rubs the sleeve of his hoodie over his nose. He wants to cry, and he wants to be held, and he wants to be alone, but against all the odds, he has these two sick idiots loving each other and him so ferociously, his chest aches even harder. 

Instead of giving an answer, Yuri slowly scoots over and throws his legs on top of the pile. His head falls to Viktor's free shoulder, and he hugs them both and cries. He curses the alcohol for making him emotional, but when Viktor cancels his run, and together with Katsuki, they tuck Yuri in instead, he's no longer sure if the wine is at fault. 

He ultimately gives up the pretense when they return three minutes later with their bedding in hand and curl into Yuri's space. His not-dads hug him from both sides until he falls back asleep, and for a while, Yuri forgets about Otabek and the smile of his companion.

\-- 

It's a Thursday night, and Yuri is in a club. Not their own. Not even a kink club. It's just a regular, boring nightclub. Everyone is dressed while grinding against one another, which is terribly dull for someone who likes to watch. As long as it's not Viktor and the other Yuri. 

There are hands all over him. Yuri isn't a stranger to that feeling. It happens almost every time he goes out. People outside of kink clubs struggle immensely with the concept of consent, as it seems. But tonight, he doesn't really care. He just wants to forget himself, forget the things he worries about. Like university. Or the fact that he found a lump on Potya's belly, even though Viktor said it's just a lymphatic gland. Yuri doesn't want to think about seeing Otabek tomorrow. Or  _ not _ seeing Otabek tomorrow. Or the guy he's been with the last few times that Yuri still doesn't know the name of. But the boy’s smile … that's burned to the insides of his eyelids. 

Someone lifts his top and shoves their hands under the fabric. They hesitate for a moment when they find the barbells. Yuri grins. The music picks up a little, and so does he, hips swaying to the beat. He has to admit, the DJ knows what he's doing. The dancers in cages above them do, too. 

Not many clubs are open on a Thursday and are packed, but this one … it works for them. Agape's name lies. Nothing in here is about innocent love. But Yuri always appreciated the unintentional match with Eros. 

Someone from uni dragged him here. He already forgot who and didn't care to remember. It was convenient, and that was the end of it. All Yuri wanted was to dance and not think about Otabek and—

"Hey, little fairy," There is a wet sensation to his neck where the stranger breathed on him like a child pressed to the aquarium glass. "Why don't we get out of here, you and me?" The stranger twists his piercings. Usually, Yuri likes it. But along with the metal, his guts twist, and Yuri has learned to listen to his intuition. 

"Fuck off. I'm dancing." 

"I can give you something else to dance o—" He quickly slinks away. Yuri's toe stepping, stomach elbowing combination usually works. 

It takes almost twenty minutes until there are new hands under his top. This time, fingers play with his ribs. Yuri allows it. It feels okay, and so far, it's not intrusive. 

Twenty more minutes and Yuri is actively grinding back against him. The dude is packing, Yuri can tell by the way his dick strains against his jeans. Probably trying to worm its way out and into Yuri's pants. But he's classy. He doesn't fuck on the first date. This isn't a date, though, and blowjobs in club toilets never hurt anyone. 

He takes the stranger's hand. On his way to the toilet, he can feel eyes on him. The eyes of the crowd, yes, of course, but … his neck tingles. Probably the stranger staring at his ass. Nice thought, but that's not for him. At least, not now. Not today. 

Yuri huffs and turns. He sees the stranger for the first time. He looks good, but is nothing special. Enough for a dimly lit toilet stall, though. It's convenient. Yuri doesn’t plan to think much, anyway. He follows through. If he squints, he could mistake the man's skin tone for Otabek's, at least in the neon light. He's a little taller but equally as broad. That's good. Maybe he'll manhandle Yuri a little. 

"Hey, sexy." Yuri has to try his luck. He knows it's corny, and he feels a little bad about it, but he also really, really wants to forget a certain man. And  _ this _ beefcake could be the answer. "I like it rough, okay? There's no need to—" 

He's pushed against the toilet door, face to face with the other man. They are not even in a stall yet, but the hand on his hips tightens, and the stranger grins. "Rough, huh? I can give you that." 

Yuri grins. Good. It has always been easier for him to forget the world when someone else takes control.

\-- 

It's Saturday, and Yuri has a date. Or is it one? At least it's not 'staring at Otabek all night,' so that counts, right? 

He's a little giddy, but Yuri isn't sure if it's for the right reasons. It's incredibly important that he times this right. Because Otabek isn't here yet. But the guy he met two days before isn't, either. Yuri should probably learn his name, but … eh. He can't be bothered. 

He's mostly working behind the scenes. Stocking the rooms, cleaning toys, and checking if the food is adequately prepared. But it won't be long. It can't be. 

An hour later, Otabek shows up. There is that weasel following him. Again. He's hanging off of Otabek's arm like a lovesick puppy, and Yuri wants to vomit. He's not sure how much of a role jealousy plays in his nausea. But he won't need to be jealous for long. Today he brought his own toy to the playground! And then Otabek will see what  _ that _ feels like!

  
  


Another hour and a pole dance show later, and Yuri starts to get anxious. He wanted this to go a certain way, but so far, nothing is following his plan. Otabek and his weasel are relaxing on the couch, surrounded by their friends. Good for them. Yuri is alone at the bar, polishing glasses that are already clear. But at least, Viktor isn't around. Phichit is just as nosy without a doubt, but for some reason, it bothers Yuri less. 

He wipes the wood of the bar for the fourth time when he notices movement across the room. Otabek is about to get up and play. 

_ Oh no.  _ He can't leave. Not yet. Yuri isn't ready. Otabek doesn't know it, but he still has to meet the replacement Yuri has found for him! 

They sit down again when the weasel decides he wants to eat some more, and Yuri catches himself silently thanking the boy before realizing that he's the enemy and shouldn't be humanized. Not even in Yuri's head.

  
  


Otabek keeps watching him from time to time, but their eyes never meet for longer than a second. There is still this attraction, this pull, but Yuri just doesn't know what to do with it. He hopes it'll resolve itself. 

Another hour and it's getting late. Yuri accepts that his guy won't show up. Not that it matters anymore. Otabek is already gone, off to a playroom somewhere reclusive, where it's just him and the weasel. Yuri wonders if he fucks him. 

He doesn't have a lot of room to judge. Not after what he planned to do on Thursday. It's basically a miracle that he got out of the club without the guys dick landing in some part of his body. But their little makeout session had been unpleasantly interrupted by another guy running in and vomiting all over the stall next to them, so they amicably decided that getting out of there was more important. 

They wanted to meet again. Today. In  _ 'Eros' _ . He promised to come to Yuri's show, but … apparently, promises don't mean anything anymore. Yuri huffs. He should have known. When he checks his watch, he realises it's past midnight. Time for a control walk. Viktor and the other Yuri are nowhere to be seen, so it's on him. 

He checks the big floor first. Gentle lights, dancing over the writhing masses. It's like in a club, but people move horizontally. Most of them, anyway. Some are perched against the walls. Yuri tries not to stare, but it's hard. His body begins to sympathise with his mood, so he tears himself away. 

There's a young couple, right in the middle. She shares Yuri's measurements, approximately. He can't be much smaller than seven feet. And he's taking her strap like a champ. It's mesmerizing to watch. Yuri has to remind himself that he gets paid for this. 

A bunch of people around them are jerking it, and Yuri is delighted to see that most of them are following the house rules. He glares at two dudes until they put on a condom, too. Of course he can't be sure they'll keep them on, but he tries to do what he can. After all, they have other areas to play bareback, if they absolutely need to. 

When Yuri is sure no one is ruining their equipment, he fills the condom bowls again and exchanges lube bottles. Then, he continues his way through the club. Next up is the bathing area. There's a heated, small indoor pool, a whirlpool and a sauna. Yes. People want to fuck in saunas. No, they aren't allowed to do so, at least not without a towel to shield the wood. Viktor is very particular with that rule. 

Everything looks clean, even the towels are neatly stored away in the baskets they belong in. If you pay that much money for a night out, you treat the place well. And of course, if you behave like a pig, you won't be allowed back in. Most people here are regulars, though. They can't afford being blacklisted. 

When Yuri realises the rubber room is empty, he uses the opportunity to wipe down and disinfect every surface, careful to only use products that won't break the material down. 

The video room is unusually full. For some reason, that amuses him. People apparently like to pay good money to sit in a room and watch porn together on a big TV, while they masturbate or make out. Yuri doesn't understand the appeal. It's cheaper at home, and there are countless live shows going on. But usually it's very quiet and clean in the porn cave, so he just restocks supplies and leaves again. 

The first problem is, as so often, found in the BDSM room. Equipment is everywhere, the cross has obviously not been wiped down, and Yuri has to search seven minutes for the key that belongs with the handcuffs. Casual guests playing around with things they don't understand is exactly why all the actual kinky people bring their own bag of toys. Yuri still wonders about Otabek's. 

Once the room is back to its initial glory, Yuri continues on his way. The first two private playrooms are locked, the third empty. Yuri checks the situation and is positively surprised to find it immaculate, even though a lot of the condoms are missing. Maybe an orgy. They sometimes bring specific rubber sheets that can just be hosed off afterwards. But they have orgy rooms … 

He's so caught up in his thoughts, Yuri doesn't realise he accidentally walked into a scene, not an empty room. The worst of all possible scenes. At least, that's what it feels like right now. 

Otabek looks up at him from his spot in the middle of the bed. The pet is tucked under his arm, apparently sleeping on his chest. A blanket is pulled up around them. 

And for a moment, all Yuri can do is stare. Because it looks so good. It's so fucking domestic. Look at this little fucker, sleeping well because he knows Otabek will take care of him. Because he is probably freshly fucked out of his mind. The air is heavy with the scent of sex, but that's a constant in this club, so Yuri can't be sure it's from them. 

Fuck, Otabek even plays with his hair. 

Yuri can't remember the last time he felt that much envy. Had he ever? 

Otabek clears his throat. Oh. Yeah. Yes, he's staring. Shit. 

"Sorry, we must have forgotten to lock the door. Is … everything okay?" 

Yuri is dragged out of his stupor. "Huh? Yeah!" His voice is too loud. "I just wanted to restock!" 

"Well … go ahead?" Otabek gives him a shaky smile, something soft and not meant for the entire world. Just for Yuri, just right now. 

"But you're busy." 

"He's asleep." 

"I can see that." And that's when the anger finally kicks in, Yuri's old friend and missed companion. "Although … this  _ is _ a playroom. And I don't see you playing? We have couches in the front for socialising." 

There are sudden worry lines on Otabek's face. Ha. Yuri's got him now. "Are we … blocking the room? I thought there are multiple ones? They were all empty previously, so I thought—" 

"You thought you'd block a room to  _ cuddle _ ?" He spits the word out like venom, uses it as the insult he thinks it is. 

"I didn't know there are rules that prohibit cuddling."  Otabek's voice is colder now. He started out trying to be considerate, but by the sounds of it, Yuri ruined that for himself. "Look, if you want us to leave because the room is needed, I'll gladly go. But if there are other free rooms and you insist on kicking us out, I would like to talk to Viktor about that." 

Now that's just adding insult to injury. Otabek basically just told him he wants to snitch to Yuri's father. It doesn't matter that people here don't know about their legal situation. Well, the guests don’t. But anyway, Otabek, that fucking asshole, wants to go and cry to Viktor about Yuri doing—doing what? His job? Although, it's definitely not his job to walk in on guests, and then bother them about the way they play. They don't need the room, either. It's just that … Yuri needs Otabek. Fast. And without that deadweight on his arm. But the longer he stands there and stares, the more Yuri’s chances of ever having an actual conversation with the dom again fly out of the window. 

So Yuri curls his lip at them. Proves he's not weak. He's doing everything on his own accord and not because stupid Otabek threatened to get stupid Viktor. He refills the supplies out of spite, but he didn't expect to wake the sleeping boy. 

Shit. That's unprofessional as fuck. In fact, everything he did so far was unprofessional as fuck, and when Otabek now decides that Yuri actually crossed a line and goes to his … boss? Friend? Guardian? Father figure? Roommate? Yuri has no idea. When Otabek actually goes to  _ Viktor _ , Yuri will get the scolding of his life. 

He turns to apologize, more to save his own skin than to solve the problem he created, but all he sees is Otabek holding the boy's face in his hands. He's brushing his thumbs over sleep-puffed cheeks, fingers connecting behind the boy's head to play with his hair. 

Yuri doesn't need to apologize. Because Yuri doesn't exist anymore. Otabek forgot about him the moment he was required, and the pet in his arms never noticed Yuri in the first place. It's like he's watching a movie, probably a romantic comedy. But he's nothing more than the cinema janitor, cleaning up the empty popcorn buckets of those who had the real fun. He also had to clean stains out of the rug at some point, if he thinks about it… but that doesn't matter now, does it? At least not to the two guys on the bed, lost in their happy bubble. 

He's nauseous. Yuri might add to the stains if he stays, but it's still a car crash, and he still can't look away. It's so fucking _tender_. Yuri wants to cry. 

And then, Otabek turns his head and looks at him. But the warm chocolate of his eyes melts into the rough bark of a thousand-year-old oak tree. Cold, withstanding, full of life and yet unmoving. "You're still here." It's not even a question. It's an accusation. Yuri spins around and runs for the door, suddenly urgent in his haste to leave this clusterfuck behind. 

That night, after he finished his rounds and returned to the bar, he really,  _ really _ craves what Phichit refuses to give him. Is Otabek going to turn him into an alcoholic? Maybe it's not him. Perhaps it's Yuri's terrible coping mechanisms. But he can't be sure, so it's easier to say that this is definitely Otabek's fault. His and the boy in his arms, stealing Yuri's place. Yuri's dom. Yuri's  _ life _ .

  
  


He sounds like a jealous housewife. But it's not jealousy. That would mean Otabek is his and now playing around. Otabek was never his. They crossed paths for a moment, and Yuri got a glimpse into the  _ 'what could have been' _ if he hadn't fucked up so royally. But it never happened. And so, it's envy. 

Envy that increases when they come out twenty minutes later and go to the buffet. When Otabek picks his food, and then  _ feeds the damn asshole.  _

No one has ever fed Yuri, not since he was a child. He never wanted or craved it. It's weak. Pathetic. But now, there's a cavity in his chest where his heart normally beats hot angry blood at the thought of depending on someone. Now, he's watching and seeing the bliss and the soft smiles, and he  _ craves.  _ He's so envious. 

Otabek cut him open with the dullest knife possible and instead of going back, or getting help, or patching himself up … Yuri is bleeding out. Slowly. One loving smile at a time. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We got to watch the boy toy. We got to watch Yuri making bad decisions. We got to watch his proxy parents.   
> We got to see Yuri in the club being a mess and Otabek being with someone else.   
> So. How are y'all doing on this fine day? :D 
> 
> Thank you for reading!  
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> or twitter: https://twitter.com/venom_for_free


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Recap Chapter 4: Yuri watches Otabek interact with his boy toy. Viktor finds him alone in the kitchen and tries to help, Katsuki joins them. They tug him into bed and ultimately join their adopted son. The next weekend, Yuri goes to a night club. He ends up messing around with a stranger, who he invites for a date to ‘Eros’. He gets stood up and has to watch Otabek leave with the other boy. Yuri then proceeds to clean the club and ends up stumbling into a scene. He finds Otabek and the other guy cuddled up. Another hissy fit and some silent treatment follow.

Viktor is going to kill him when he finds out Yuri stole another fancy wine bottle, but that's okay. Make his suffering end, that was the plan all along, wasn't it? And he's not even drinking on the kitchen floor tonight. Oh no. Today, he's got class. 

Yuri carries the bottle to his bedroom, along with a glass. He's chic like that. Maybe he'll cry himself to sleep later. But he  _ will  _ have fun before. He's determined. 

The room is dark, but he lights a candle so he can find his glass again. He's tearing his clothes off. Yeah, yeah, yeah. The fantasy is supposed to be soft and tender, but Yuri ain't got time for gentle undressing. He's got a job to do, an orgasm to force out of his soulless body, and  _ then  _ there's still the scheduled crying until he blacks out. No time for the gentle removal of clothes, obviously. 

He falls into bed face first. Rests on top of his sheets, starfish style, and ponders if maybe, that's already it. Perhaps he should move on to crying. Go directly to jail; do not pass go, do not collect $200. Fuck. But he can't let that other boy win. Admittedly, Yuri isn't entirely sure if masturbating will change that, but it's worth trying, he tells himself. 

Viktor and the other Yuri are out tonight, apparently visiting Chris and Phichit. He's determinedly not thinking about  _ why. _

Yuri pulls his playlist back out. He clicks on the fifth song because the title resonates with him. 

**"Bad intentions" — Niykee Heaton**

He hasn't heard that one before, but it makes no difference. He still would have picked it if he had. Last time, Yuri looked for lyrics far, far away from his situation, but today? Now that crying was a fully integrated part of his plan, he nodded along as he rolled onto his back and grabbed his limp dick. Masturbation shouldn't be this much work, but here he is.

**_'This is the face I wear treading the riptide/ Abysmal oceans where good girls go to die/ I wanna love somebody/ Wanna feel in love all on me/ But after everything I still believe in true love'_ **

Yuri isn't sure if he believes in true love. Ever has. But there's magnetism, and not even Otabek can deny it. After all, Yuri has seen his friends laugh in his face when they find them staring at each other. 

**_'Not being able to find it/ Damn it tears me up/ And I know it's my fault/ I know it's my fault/ Let's take a trip, ten thousand miles above the clouds/ We can stay up here until we figure it out/ I don't wanna go home/ Don't wanna be alone'_ **

He doesn't have to be alone in his mind, in the story he narrates for himself while his hand wanders through sparse blond curls above his base. 

_ The club is dark, but there is indirect, golden light softening the edges. Yuri is on his pole, the song he's working his body to is danceable. Yuri makes it danceable. Otabek is watching. Only Otabek, only Yuri. Just the two of them, as Yuri gives him the private show of his life.  _

**_'I've got some damn bad intentions/ I got some secrets I forgot to mention/ Haven't learned my lesson/ I've got some damn bad intentions/ I see the world in 25 dimensions/ I've seen evil reign over perfection/ Blood heat over tension/ And I know'_ **

_ Otabek pulls him from the pole, pulls him into his lap. Tells him he looked so pretty, just for him. Yuri nods. He knows.  _

His body reacts to the stimulation. Yuri's hips begin to roll into his grip. He can't see it, but he feels that he's smiling. Disgusting. Yuri sits up a little, grabs his wine glass, takes a gulp. He drops back down, hands back on himself. 

_ He's straddling Otabek. Gyrates his hips on the man below but not beneath him. Yuri whines. It feels good.  _

_ It feels even better when Otabek grabs his neck and squeezes it. He's possessive. The Otabek in Yuri's mind is possessive and jealous and will protect him with his life. No one can tell him otherwise because this is  _ **_his_ ** _ Otabek. Yuri moans, arches his back, presents what he has.  _

_ Lips on his piercing, kissing, then tugging, then biting. Yuri holds still for his master.  _

**_'Baby I just want your damn bad intentions/ I've got some damn bad intentions'_ **

_ He's whining a little. Yuri wants more. More touch, more kisses. But Otabek grins and shakes his head. He leans back and takes a long, thoughtful sip from an expensive-looking glass with even more expensive-looking liquid.  _

His hand stills. Yuri waits. Otabek would want him to wait for him, wouldn't he? But he uses the time, sits up, drinks some more. The song is over, but he barely realizes until the next one starts. 

**"I Just Had Sex"** from  **The Lonely Island** plays, and for a second, he's too amused to click it away. Whoever made this list is either the dumbest fuck on this planet or a trickster god trying to ruin people's day. 

**_'Have you ever had sex? I have, it felt great/ It felt so good when I did it with my penis/ A girl let me do it, it literally just happened/ Having sex should make a nice man out the meanest'_ **

Yuri makes it to Andy Samberg's first verse, but then he realizes he's killing whatever mood he has left after listening to  _ this. _ But he's still a little regretful to click  _ 'next.' _ After all, it's a timeless classic. You wouldn't skip Bohemian Rhapsody, either, but he's a man on a mission. So back to actual sexy music.

He jumps around a little, determined to find something he actually likes. Another title catches his attention. 

**"Pirouette" — Chiiild**

**_'Caught swimming in your new sundress/ Blood red just like your new Corvette/ Keep living like the sun don't set/ Dance for me darling/ Pirouette'_ **

Yuri likes how smokey it sounds. Warm, somehow. He can see himself spinning, around himself, around a pole, around Otabek. 

He falls back into his fantasy, empty glass on the nightstand. One hand toying with the barbell, the other stroking himself. It's almost lazy, the way he approaches it. Yuri still wants to wait for Otabek. 

**_'Platinum blonde sitting shotgun/ Lights out, loud smoking hot one/ You've been out/ Running 'round/ Running 'round/ Running 'round'_ **

_ Yuri ran long enough. Now he's exactly where he belongs, pressing back against his lover, offering himself on a tray. Otabek rewards him with a kiss. Slow, almost careful. They breathe each other in, tongues barely meeting between them. One broad hand strokes up Yuri's back, holds him close, doesn't want to let him go.  _

**_'Suck you dry 'til you got one/ Sell you lies and you bought 'em/ Get you high/ Going down/ Going down/ Going down'_ **

_ Yuri isn't thinking about lies between them, but going down is a good idea. He asks politely. Today, he wants to do everything right. And Otabek is so proud of him. So proud.  _

He plucks a toy from his drawer and unceremoniously pushes it into his mouth, then sucks lightly. It helps to picture the scene. 

_ Yuri slides between his legs, opens the belt, the button, the fly. His mouth is watering. Shit, he really wants this. He pulls Otabek out, kisses him, licks him, eyes always on his master. Yuri is a good boy tonight. He wants to be just as blissed out as the nameless face  _ _ that used to be Otabeks companion. Used to. Now, Yuri is the one he is with, after all, _ _ and Otabek can give him that. And all he has to offer in return is his soul and body, no holds barred. It sounds like a fair deal to him.  _

**_'I said it's nice to meet you/ I know you're doing fine/ How can we be strangers/ After tonight?'_ **

Yuri only realizes he's about to cum when his legs twitch. He squeezes his base. Not yet. Not now. Otabek hasn't allowed him to cum yet. Shivers shake his whole body. An orgasm staved off so close to release is almost painful, but he wants to be a good boy. 

_ He wants to be a good boy.  _

Yuri licks his lips, stares at the ceiling, unseeing. 

_ He wants to be a good boy.  _

His body screams for touch. The music is still playing, the bottle half-full. Yuri gulps air like a fish on land. Licks his lips again. 

_ He wants to be a good boy.  _

Yuri can't believe he's doing this. It makes no sense. He had a plan. He started out great. Got into it. The story was working for him. Hasn't even started yet, really. He blows the candle out and pulls the blanket up around him, ignoring the burning need between his legs. Ignoring everything, but the one thought that just shattered his mind. 

**_'Keep living like the sun don't set/ Dance for me darling/ Pirouette'_ **

\-- 

It's Monday, and Yuri is running across the campus ground. He's late for class. People see him and his rude attitude and assume that being late is something he does casually _. _ It's not. After years of ballet training, he might still not like to clean his room, but being late? That's not a bad habit of his anymore. 

He's jumping through a hedge, trying to shorten his path as best as he can, but—shit, there's a fence. Yuri turns and hurries in the other direction. Why did they have to relocate his class in the middle of the year? Mimimimi, new paint for the walls. Mimimimi, new flooring. He's not paying his tuition for them to fuck around like that. 

Yuri swerves around the little Italian restaurant between two buildings when he sees  _ him.  _

He freezes. His class is suddenly pushed to the back of his mind. He'll get his education another day.

Maybe. Maybe he continues stripping until he's an old geezer. Like Viktor. 

Yuri isn't entirely sure what he seeing. There is definitely, absolutely and without question, Otabek's boy. Middle length brown hair, small, cute if he belonged to anyone but Yuri's crush. But he  _ does _ belong to Yuri's crush, so … what is this? The dude across from him is definitely not Otabek. He's a little darker skinned, definitely taller, and his hair looks somewhat similar to the pet. Are they … holding hands?! 

"YURI!" He spins around, almost bumping into Georgi, who's rushing past him. "WHAT ARE YOU STARING AT?! CLASS BEGINS IN TWO MINUTES!" 

Fuck. The class. He almost forgot why he was here in the first place. Yuri squints at the boy, who now looks up and—smiles at him? Waves? Is he taunting Yuri? What a fucking— 

"YUUURIIII!" 

God damn it. He has no time for this. Yuri turns and sprints off to his class. But even after he plops into his seat, three minutes too late, but before the professor nonetheless, he can't let it go. What is Otabek's boy toy doing here with another man? Is he cheating on him? Because if yes … Yuri will break his face with gusto. 

But maybe it was a classmate. His brother. A cousin. Yuri barely had time to register the situation. He can't jump to conclusions now. He's no longer a hotheaded teenager. 

Yuri sighs. His brain is already trying to come up with a plan on how to tell Otabek. Of course he would shove his nose into things he had no business in. He knows he shouldn't.  _ He shouldn't _ , but there are entire novels in his head now on how all of this will play out. 

And Yuri wants a lead role. 

\-- 

"Okay, but  _ if— _ hear me out! What  _ if _ he's cheating on him?" Yuri raises his eyebrows as if he introduced a completely new idea. 

"Then, it's  _ still _ not your business."

He can't believe he's getting lectured on morals by Yuri  _ 'I met Viktor by giving him an unsolicited lapdance, and then vomited in the staff room half an hour because I realized he's my boss and the nerves almost killed me' _ Katsuki.

Was he drunk back then? Yes. Is that an excuse? Absolutely fucking not. 

The fact that he's working the bar tonight isn't an excuse to slack off either. Even if  _ 'slacking off' _ just means  _ 'not wanting to listen to Yuri bitch about the same thing for the eighth time.'  _

"Okay, but  _ if _ he's cheating … I should tell Otabek. Right? I mean, we are basically friends."

"You spoke for one night, then flopped a scene, yelled at each other, never talked again, and sometimes eye-fuck to an extend that makes bystanders uncomfortable. In a BDSM club." 

"Yeah, as I said, we are friends. Basically."

"Right." Yuri leans against the bar, elbows on the polished wood, and watches the weasel happily scurry around the dom. He exhales, dramatic enough to feel the pull in his abs. "Oh my god," Katsuki rolls his eyes and throws the towel from his hip after him, good-naturedly. "Leave them be. You're scaring our customers with your judgemental stares."

"Okay, but WHAT IF—"

"PHICHIT! I NEED YOU TO TAKE THIS ONE!" He points at Yuri.

Phichit laughs from the other side of the room, currently on Chris' lap. He doesn't look like he'll take over the bar anytime soon. Means Katsuki is stuck with him. Good.

"Imagine if it was Viktor and—"

"No."

"Just no?"

"Not just no. But … Viktor and I love each other. He's my first serious relationship. We are both committed, and we click."

"And you think I can't have that?" Anger boils in Yuri’s mind. What the fuck is Katsuki on about? Yes, it didn't exactly go well, but … that doesn't mean they can't ever have a chance. Right?

"That's not what I'm saying either. But … Yura. You guys are attracted to each other. You might even have nice chemistry in bed. If both of you force it, you could probably make it through a few scenes. But … you don't click. You're a brat. You need someone who enjoys punishing you just as much as you enjoy being punished. From what I've seen, he's more of a teacher. There's no funishment. Just … education. You hate that. You hate being told what to do. I'm not saying that to be mean. I'm saying that because it's so far away from Viktor and me that it can't be compared reasonably. If Viktor met with another man … he's as much mine as I'm his. You guys are … acquaintances. With a vaguely similar taste."

Yuri stares at him. So Katsuki recently got fucked. Good for him. The only times he speaks so self-assured are after Viktor has worked all the worries and fears out of him, meticulously and over hours. That doesn't help Yuri, not at all, but if he shits on Katsuki's confidence now, Viktor will have him for a late dinner and spit him out, so chewed through he will ache for days.  It's not worth it. Besides, Yuri begrudgingly has to admit there's some truth. 

"So what you're saying is that I need to fuck him out of my system?" 

Katsuki looks at him, eyes wide. "I most definitely did not say that." 

"I think you did." 

"Yura, I said you guys aren't really compatible and that you should stop obsessing over him, but—" 

"I'll go and find another toy to play with. Thank you for the advice!" 

"THAT'S NOT—YURA, THAT'S NOT WHAT I MEANT!" 

But Yuri is already halfway out the door, waving in the general direction of the bar.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So. More wine, more bad music choices, and Otabek's guy with another dude?!   
> What is going on here? Let me hear your suspicions!   
> Also ... props to Yuri for being his own worst enemy, I guess. 
> 
> Thank you for reading!  
> I'm also on  
> tumblr: https://www.tumblr.com/blog/venom-for-free  
> instagram: https://www.instagram.com/venom_for_free/  
> or twitter: https://twitter.com/venom_for_free


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Recap Chapter 5: Yuri steals another wine bottle and ends up masturbating and drinking away his problems to a terribly curated playlist. When he is back on campus, he is late for class and has to take a new route. He ends up spotting Otabek’s boy with another guy. He ponders if he should talk to Otabek about it. Katsuki tries to aid him with the advice to forget Otabek, but Yuri chooses to misunderstand him and instead go for another guy.

Not many people could sport an  _ 'I make bad choices' _ tattoo, but Yuri is convinced it would work out for him in the middle of his forehead. At least people would lower their expectations then. 

He's in the big room on his knees, surrounded by people touching themselves, and only the ball gag stops him from yelling at them to put  _ the fucking condoms on.  _ If he gets cum in his hair, he'll unearth his secret dominance and slap everyone fire-engine-red who ignored the polite requests issued by the house.

  
  


He took the other Yuri's advice and got himself a dominant. But Honestly, Katsuki's advice was shit, he realised while kneeling on the joint-friendly, easy to clean and comfortable to lie on flooring.

Maybe, if that's what he is thinking about as the dude slaps his half-hard dick in Yuri's face, maybe he's not really in it. But he was the one who asked, so he can't really back down now, can he? Of course, he  _ can _ . Viktor drilled it into him when it became apparent that Yuri would follow his kinky footsteps. 

_ 'You always have a choice. Consent can be revoked. Everything else is rape, and you should defend yourself against it if you need to. I don't care what the world thinks about submissives going to town on a dom. If they are abusive, they had it coming.'  _

But the dude above him isn't abusive. If anything, he's almost shy. Yuri can tell he hasn't done this very often. If at all. God, he  _ loves _ people sauntering into the scene with toys worth hundreds of dollars and experience not even worth a penny, acting like they are the shit because the handle of their forth paddle is bedazzled. 

Yuri has a rule. The length of someone's bullwhip in relation to their years of experience using them. That's his douchery index. One year experience and a 1-meter bullwhip? Fine. Two years and two meters? Sure. It goes up to five meters, but that only works for actual cowboys because  _ no one _ in a closed room needs a bullwhip longer than three meters. Everything below that index, though … he's not saying you can't be great with a two-meter bullwhip after only a year of training, you absolutely can. But Yuri also knows most people don't train daily and with proper targets. So while there are exceptions to the rule … it's still a good one. 

The dude above him didn't bring a bullwhip, thank god. Yuri wouldn't let him close with that thing. He didn't bring bedazzled paddles either. Just a ball gag, some wooden clamps, cheap fur cuffs, and a lot of insecurities.

God. He can't deal with a dom with insecurities. Yuri knows not everyone grew up with a  _ 'father' _ deeply involved in kink, living, and breathing the rules of caretaking and consent and communication since they were teenagers. But fuck, Viktor gives classes for this shit. If you're insecure with a toy, don't use it on a person. It's not that hard.

The dude is pretty. Yuri has to admit it. He's cute, and he blushes a little when Yuri looks up at him, cheeks dirty with precum. But he's not what Yuri needs right now. He needs a powerhouse. Someone to hold on to him and toss him around and tell him  _ 'no.' _ He needs Otabek. 

Yuri isn't entirely sure when his fantasies of commanding the dom around changed into wanting to be taught and praised and broken apart, just to be reassembled in a way Otabek would like. There's that name again. That boy. Man. Whatever. Yuri can't let go. 

The dude is taking off his ball gag, and Yuri works his jaw. And right when he's about to politely ask Yuri to suck him off, Otabek walks past them, his happy pet on a leash. But he isn't looking at his own boy. He's looking at Yuri, slightly messy and on his knees, about to take another man's cock. Otabek hesitates, and  _ yes, this is what Yuri needs.  _ The dark eyes burn into him, hot like lava, scorching the soil below. 

Yuri nuzzles the thigh in front of him, sees more than hears a faint growl. Otabek jerks on the leash, the pet is pulled into a playroom without ceremony. He looks almost angry. Yuri grins and stands up, handing the ball gag over to the stunned, new dom. "That was fun. Thanks for the show." 

"But I'm … still hard?" His voice almost breaks, so heavy with insecurity and need. 

Yuri looks around the room, sees many willing contestants. "And I'm not a prostitute. But you'll find someone else." 

He spins around, leaving the big room. It might not have been a good fuck, but he got more than that. He got Otabek's attention. He feels less guilty when he looks over his shoulder and sees the young man with a girl enthusiastically sucking him off. The dude gives him a thumbs-up, and suddenly, he almost wants to laugh. 

\-- 

Viktor knocks on his bedroom door. Shit, was he too loud? Yuri pulls his hand over the sheets and turns to the side. "Yeah?" 

The door opens, and Viktor looks inside. "You here?" 

"Who exactly do you think just said _'Yeah?'_?" He only gets a shrug back. "What do you want?"

Viktor isn't revoked by his hostile tone. He smiles lightly. "Just making sure you're okay. When we came home, and the bottle of wine was still in the fridge. I was worried." Yuri can hear the grin in his voice.

"I'm fine. Fuck off." He's still hard beneath his blanket. Yuri doesn't need a heart to heart right now. 

Instead, Viktor opens the door, revealing him and Katsuki in their pajamas, pillows and blankets in hand. "We thought we should join you for a pajama party." 

"I'm not twelve anymore!" Despite the overtone of anger and annoyance, Viktor probably hears the hidden  _ 'Thanks for caring, though.'  _

"You weren't twelve some weeks ago, either." Katsuki. Sounding more like a mother than anyone ever had to him. "I know I was hard on you in the club. Probably not very fair, either. I want you to know that we care about you and your problems, and that you can always come to us, okay? I should have listened, I wasn't a perfect parent. I'm sorry, Yura. Really sorry. I'm—"

Viktor interrupts him with a hand on his back. Katsuki takes a deep breath. Viktor's weird sex voodoo is losing its effect, he is turning insecure again. The intrusive thought of Cinderella makes him grin into the darkness. "I'm fine. Go to bed. Suck Viktor off, or whatever it is that you guys do that makes you feel better. I'm okay."

Katsuki isn't convinced. "Please, let us help you be less alone. You don't have to spend your time in solitude and—"

"I'm jacking off! Okay? I'm not bundled up in eternal darkness, I'm playing with my dick!" He's half laughing and half desperate. God, what a clusterfuck of a conversation. Hopefully, that would startle the idiots enough to leave.

But Viktor only makes a small, agreeing sound. "Good, Yura! Very good! Your body will enjoy the endorphins and—" 

"FUCK OFF!" 

Viktor cackles, then takes Katsuki's arm to pull him away. "Come on. Yurio had an excellent idea on how to spend our night …" 

He groans when the door is shut. Yuri is soft again, but he smiles. Traces a lazy finger over his dick. He's not going to cum. Not until he's allowed to. Yuri wants to be a good boy. 

\-- 

Another day of him stalking across the freshly mowed lawn. There is somehow dog poop on it, even though Yuri hasn't seen a dog on campus for weeks. He's not even sure they are allowed. The dorms prohibit animals. He's lucky Viktor and the other Yuri like him enough to allow him Potya. But the one disadvantage of not living in the dorms is that it takes longer to get to university. Everyone else falls out of bed and into the lecture hall, but not Yuri. 

That's one of the two reasons he's here early. Yuri doesn't want a stressful disaster run like last week. The other reason sits at the bistro table in between the campus buildings. 

This time, he's not in a rush. This time, Yuri can check out the boy to his heart's content. He's sure now that it's Otabek's boy toy. And that the person at the table with him isn't Otabek. They are holding hands, in bright daylight, as if they aren't committing crimes against laws only Yuri knows. 

It's a little obsessive, he has to admit that, but Yuri sits down on the small boulder next to the street anyway. He's far enough away not to be spotted, but close enough to see the heart eyes. Does Otabek know? Is he into that? Maybe it isn't  _ like that _ between them. Between any of them. But Yuri struggles to believe that. It might not be his place to tell Otabek, but … he wants to. Desperately. 

When he's entirely sure there's more going on than just flirty glances, Yuri decides to retreat. For the moment. Just until he knows what to do. Or until his class is over, whatever comes first. He hops from the boulder and walks to his classroom. But this time, Yuri makes sure to pass by close enough to the bistro to be seen. He won't turn around to make sure—after all, he doesn't want to give the guy a warning to prepare—but Yuri can't deny himself the fun of spooking the other a little. Hopefully. 

Then, he sees Georgi, and for a moment, his fashion sense is a bigger problem than Otabek's companion. But only for a moment. 

\-- 

He looks at the clock. Waits. Can't wait any longer. Where the fuck is he? Usually, Otabek and his friends would have been here fifteen minutes ago. Yuri doesn't care too much about Mila and Jean, and the boy toy, and whoever else hangs out with them for the day, but … uuurgh. By now, he has convinced himself to speak to the dom, even if all goes to shit. 

Phichit has made jokes about his pacing for a while now, but Yuri doesn't care. He's a tiger in a cage. Wants to roar and scream. Doesn't the boy know how lucky he is? 

Well, according to his usual happy, blissed-out face, he does. Shit. But how can he cheat on Otabek? And pretend to be loyal? Yuri is foaming at the mouth. He would  _ never.  _

On top of that, he’s felt eyes on his neck for a while. Is it the guy from the club? Maybe. Too little too late. Yuri ventured on. When he's honest with himself, he was never off course. He had chances to bang other dudes. But Yuri didn't use them. Didn't want to. Felt like it's wrong. At this point, he isn't even getting off on his own anymore. It's pathetic, really. But what can he do? Knowing he's good for Otabek is the only thing that fills him with warmth these days. The short high of an orgasm isn't worth it. 

"Can I get you a drink?" Yuri's head snaps up. There's another guy. Why is there another guy? He hasn't seen him before. "Sorry I ditched you last week. My aunt fell down the stairs and—" 

He stops listening. Oh god,  _ this is _ the guy from the club? Yuri was drunker than he remembered. Not because the guy is ugly. But because the guy is  _ buff _ . 

Muscular to an extent where Yuri isn't sure he knows his own strength. The guy might snap him apart. And he’s stopped talking. Now he's staring, waiting for an answer. Shit. Yuri has no answer. He doesn't want a drink, he doesn't care about this aunt, he doesn't—

"Are you deaf? Let me get you a drink, and then we'll get the fuck out of here." 

What? Why? Yuri is suddenly uncomfortable. Why would they want to leave? Especially a place where they could fuck basically everywhere? In a controlled and safe environment? No. That makes no sense. 

Never follow a stranger to a second location. Especially not when it's a hookup, and the first location is fine. 

He begins to look around uneasily. Phichit is busy at the bar, Viktor and Katsuki are nowhere to be seen. The guy could pick Yuri up and carry him out of there, and people would think it's part of the game. Fuck. What had he gotten himself into? 

Yuri shakes his head no. 

The guy raises an eyebrow. Looks down on him. Takes a measured step towards Yuri and corners him against the bar. How had Yuri not noticed those things before? Sure, he had been intoxicated, but … that much? Or maybe he was just an asshole because he thought that's how dominant people should act? 

Yuri is stressed out. He's stuck with no chance to fight the guy himself, even though puberty and dancing gave him additional muscle mass. 

Out of nowhere, he feels a hand on his back. Yuri spins around, tries to flee the constricting touch, but almost crashes into Otabek's chest.

"Is there a problem?"

Yuri's heard Otabek speak before. He knows his voice is deep. Logically, he knows. But right now, it has an edge that is definitely new.

The guy glares first at Otabek and then at Yuri. His eyes trail to the hand on Yuri's back. And okay, good thing Otabek is here because now the guy is pushing out his chest and straightening his spine, looming over both of them. He's half a head taller than Otabek and even broader. Yuri isn't sure the dom could take him in a fight, but Otabek doesn't waver or hesitate.

"I asked you a question." The tone is so commanding, so unrelenting, Yuri can't suppress a whimper in the back of his throat. He curls further into the half embrace. 

The dude sneers. Looks between Yuri and Otabek again. "I just wanted to buy him a drink. It's not my fault he got all weird." 

The hand wanders up and pressed Yuri further against Otabek's chest, a gift he accepts with open arms. "I think I clearly saw him shake his head." 

"So what?" 

"So why are you still here?" 

"He invited me." He looks smug, probably expects Otabek to feel cheated and throw Yuri back at him. Nothing of this sort happens. Instead, Otabek speaks to him, even though his eyes never leave the other's. 

"Yuri, do you want to drink with this man?" No. Yuri shakes his head. "And do you want to do anything else with him?" No. Again. The dude glares. "Would you like him to leave?" Yuri nods. The glare gets more intense. "Then we are done here." Otabek gives him another long look. Yuri pictures him raising his leg and fucking peeing on  _ his  _ territory at this point. It's crystal clear this is a kind of fight Yuri knows nothing about. 

Then, Otabek guides him away to their couch. Yuri didn't even realize the whole group had arrived, but there's Mila, the beautiful girl with the annoying puppy Yuri wants to forget the name of and Otabek's boy toy. With … the guy from the bistro?! He's confused. Confused enough to forget to greet everyone else and just stare at them. 

The brown haired, small, Asian-looking boy extended his hand first. "Hi! I'm Guang Hong! So nice to finally meet you! Beka kept telling me about you and that he hoped he could bring you over one day!" 

What? That's the last thing he expected to hear from the guy. Yuri turns to look at man of the hour. It's incredibly cute and only topped by Otabek's barely visible blush. Yuri gives him a slow, warm smile. "Is that so?" Otabek clears his throat but ignores him otherwise, suddenly busy with invisible lint on his impeccable pants. So Yuri turns back. "Yuri." 

Guang Hong shakes his hand, still smiling wide. Holy shit, he looks so happy and innocent from up close. "Oh! And this is Leo!" He points at the other guy, who casually has an arm wrapped around him.

"Hi. Still Yuri."

Leo laughs, and Yuri decides he likes him after all, even though it makes no sense that he's here with Otabek.

"Hey, Yuri. That creep keeps staring." Mila's voice drags him out of his own head. "You might want to get closer to Otabek?"

Oh hell yeah. He wants to be as close as any human being can be. Instead, he turns around. "You okay with that?"

Otabek leans back, obviously offering his lap. Yuri doesn't understand what's happening, but Fortuna did him a favor today, and he won't fuck with that. So he takes the chance and climbs onto Otabek's lap.

Of all people, it has to be Jean who opens his mouth. "Oh, is he your next project, Beks?"

Yuri still doesn't understand anything but the angry gaze Otabek throws Jean's way lets Yuri guess it wasn't a kind implication. Bastard, then.  He leans back against Otabek's chest, trying to soothe him. Maybe. Maybe it's just Yuri's deep longing for gentle touch between them. Guang Hong and Leo watch with excitement. This is all so fucking confusing. Yuri sighs. He hates asking for help, but he can't possibly hope to clear this up on his own. 

Half an hour later, he's glad he asked because, holy shit, that needed explaining. He's in the middle of his third mocktails, and Mila is still talking. 

What he gathered is this. Otabek, despite being only a few years older than Yuri, has been a dom for a while. Yuri could tell he's not fucking around, but the extend is fascinating. Because basically, he's a trainer. He trained Jean for Bella, and  _ apparently _ , he trained Guang Hong for Leo. It doesn't sound like a complicated story, but when six people try to tell it … 

"So when I saw the two of them on campus … he wasn't really cheating on you?" 

"OH, IT WAS REALLY YOU! I WONDERED!" Guang Hong beams at him. Makes sense. He never did anything wrong, after all. Apparently. God, Yuri is so fucking happy he didn't make a scene like he usually would. Belated thanks to the guy from the bar who fucked off by now. Also, thanks to him, Yuri is currently residing on his throne on Otabek's lap. 

"No, he wasn't cheating on me. There was never anything going on between us. I mean, we are close. Like, very close, but … Leo and I are close, too and—" 

He's interrupted when Mila puts her hands on Otabek's shoulder and squeezes. "Beks, are you okay? Dude. I haven't heard you say so many words consecutively since—" 

"He's spoken to me for far longer?" Yuri isn't interested in the end of Mila's sentence, and everyone is interrupting each other anyway. 

But it makes no difference. Mila only gives him a wolfish grin and continues anyway. "—since you last spoke with Yuri." 

Oh. Oooooh. 

She winks and leans back. Yuri's heart feels a little lighter. He looks at Otabek again. "But you guys are … really close. And I haven't seen Leo around? Ever?" 

Yuri could swear there's a blush on Otabek's cheeks, and god damn it, why does it feel like he's talking to his boyfriend? God, Yuri needs to calm down. But he's only asking because he's interested. Right? That's how you make conversation. That's all. He's polite, asking those things. 

But before the still suspiciously red Otabek can answer, Leo laughs. "What do you mean you haven't seen me around? I was here multiple times. Just last week, we walked past you while you were blowing that guy in the big room!" 

Wait, what? 

Oh. Oooooh. 

Yuri had only noticed Otabek and a flash of the boy he now knows as Guang Hong on his leash. Leo had been there? 

It takes a second to register that Leo is still talking. " … on our way to the playroom. You might not have seen it, you looked quite busy. Oh my, you should have seen Beka's  _ face! _ " 

Wait, what? Yuri has seen Otabek's face. He looked less than amused, yes, but … what does this have to do with— 

Otabek tenses under him. But he isn't hiding behind Yuri, he is stretching his spine. Wants to look bigger? Threaten his friends. Yuri can feel the  _ 'one more word' _ between them in the air. It's enough to stop Leo from babbling. Damn. But Yuri wanted to hear that story. After all, he finally seemed to have gotten the leading role he wanted all this time! 

Mila is a merciful god. She pats Otabek's shoulder, and Yuri has to wonder how involved they all are with each other. "Let him talk, Beks. You got to try on your own for _weeks_. And it got you nothing except frustration. You listened to me once, and the boy is on your lap. Now stop trying to act cool and let Leo do his thing." 

Yuri can't pretend he understands everything, but apparently, Mila was responsible for his rescue. And … Otabek has tried … for weeks? 

He relaxes and falls back against the sofa. Otabek seems to have given up. But his hands are on Yuri's hips, so Yuri follows the movement. He's now further snuggled against Otabek,  _ and _ the grip on his hips was updated to arms loosely wrapped around his middle. He's in heaven. 

Leo beams at Mila, and Yuri clearly understands now _ who _ the boss is in this group of friends. "Beks was so unhappy. So, so unhappy. You know, he's usually stoic if not outright grumpy when it comes to you. But  _ that _ … you could  _ see _ he just wanted to go back and peel you off that guy." 

That … was a quite open and personal confession from the wrong person. He turns to make sure. And oh boy, Otabek is as flaming red as his skin allows. It's adorable. Yuri wants to tease him about it, but … but maybe, if he's actually a good boy just once in his life … 

He nuzzles Otabek's jaw with his nose. Smiles gently. Leans up to whisper in his ear, "Don't worry. I didn't fuck him. And I didn't let him fuck me, not even my mouth." 

The arms around his middle tighten. Yuri doesn't understand how, but this is all completely new and utterly familiar at the same time. He hears Otabek's dark voice, quiet, just for him. "You didn't?"

Yuri shakes his head no. They are alone on the sofa now. Just Otabek and him. He can't even hear the giggles around him, is too focused on this voice, the touch on his back, the warmth seeping into him. "I couldn't. Couldn't stop thinking about you." 

Yuri can feel Otabek's face stretch into a smile before those same lips press a scorching hot kiss to his forehead. 

Now or never. 

"I shouldn't have walked out on you." Otabek hums, quiet confirmation, and for a second, Yuri's blood begins to boil before he reminds himself that an apology shouldn't demand a counter apology. And what would Otabek even apologize for? So he pushes on. "I shouldn't have yelled at you, either." 

Otabek tenses again, but then he pulls Yuri into an even tighter hug, and Yuri hopes it's happiness, not anger, that made him react. "You're here now." And Otabek is right. He's here. They are together in the middle of a buzzing BDSM club. Only now does Yuri realize they are  _ actually _ alone on the sofa. The rest seem to have left for the buffet, but he catches Mila's eye, and she winks. 

"What now?" Yuri chews his bottom lip and tries not to steal a kiss even though it's hard with Otabek's plush lips right there. He's a good boy now. Maybe. He tries. 

"What do you want? From this?" 

That's a tough question. A few weeks earlier, Yuri would have said  _ 'a good spanking and a hard fuck.' _ But that's not it anymore, is it? He's Yuri Plisetsky. He's not shy or a frightened baby or … he's not that. He's a wild cat, and there's no way he will mewl around when he can roar. 

"Everything." 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> BIGGEST BOY OF A CHAPTER. I thought about turning this into two chapters, but y'all deserved closure with the dumb baby.   
> AND DON'T WORRY, this is not the end. Two more chapters. I wouldn't promise you a BDSM story and then NOT have them fuck, wouldn't that be cruel? We don't do this here. 
> 
> So. Yuri finds another dom, but somehow that isn't the magical solution, EITHER. Otabek notices. He runs into the other boy in the company of his 'friend', we meet the nightclub dudebro again and our boi Otabek finally gets to do more than look sad and flash his boy toy. We finally have a backstory! And Yuri is where he aspired to be the entirety of the last six chapters! 
> 
> NOW I CAN'T WAIT TO HEAR YOUR THOUGHTS.   
> GO! 
> 
> Thank you for reading!  
> I'm also on  
> tumblr: https://www.tumblr.com/blog/venom-for-free  
> instagram: https://www.instagram.com/venom_for_free/  
> or twitter: https://twitter.com/venom_for_free


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Recap Chapter 6: Yura runs straight into the arms of another dom, but the performance leaves him feeling hollow and unhappy. He realizes that Otabek noticed and is happy with that result, so he leaves. When he is back home, Viktor and Katsuki invite themselves to a sleepover, leaving Yuri with no choice but to tell them, that he is already very busy. Back on Campus, he runs into the other sub again, once more with company. He decides to talk to Otabek. When he is in the club again, though, he is greeted by the night club guy, and he is not there to be friendly. Otabek jumps in to defuse the situation and Yuri learns that he never dated Guang Hong. He meets Leo and learns more about the group. Yuri apologizes and they start anew.

It's obnoxiously loud when the door falls shut. Yuri doesn't care, though. Viktor and Katsuki are still in the club, will be for a few hours. Bless Phichit for alerting Viktor about the scary guy and his Chris for taking over Yuri's shift because now he's at home shortly after midnight. 

Potya comes running to greet him but startles once she sees the broad guy behind her owner. Otabek crouches down and offers his palm. Potya glares and escapes into hiding. 

"Usually cats like me," Otabek sighs out and looks after her. 

"Well. I know I do." He's rewarded with a smile that Otabek seems to usually keep in a box in the attic. At least that's what his friends said. 

Yuri leads him into the kitchen and steals the bottle of wine Viktor chilled for him. He really has to consider his drinking habits. But not right now. Right now, he has two large hands sneaking around his waist. Yuri lets Otabek guide him into an embrace, back to chest. 

"I thought you're not legal drinking age yet." 

"It's not illegal when the lights are out." 

"I gotta keep that in mind." It's unfair how cool he can sound saying those things now, when an hour ago, he was a blushing mess. Now, Yuri is blushing with the way Otabek kisses his neck. 

He knows he said no second locations, especially not when you're in a place you can hook up just fine in. But this feels different. Otabek is different, and Yuri can feel it. That's not all he feels, though. 

He pushes his hips back, grinds against the stiff sensation. He's rewarded with a dark growl deep in Otabek's throat, and the wine is suddenly meaningless. All Yuri wants to feel now is one hand on his barbells and the other in his pants. But he doesn't say that. This time, he'll do it right. 

"Please?" Yuri has begged Otabek in his mind countless times. Saying it out loud is just one more. Otabek freezes, though. His breath hitches the slightest bit. Yuri moves his head to nuzzle Otabek's jaw again, offers his own neck. A sign of submission. 

Almost tentatively, Otabek leans forward and claims it. There's no rough biting, though, as Yuri had suspected. He gets gentle nibbles and soft kisses. "What do you need, kitten?" 

And there's the nickname Yuri hoped for. He arches his back, tries to show his approval, grinds harder against the unmoving wall behind himself. "You," he stammers, and then, following his own fantasies, "Daddy." 

"Uhm …" Otabek stiffened up again, but not the way Yuri wanted him to. 

"I can call you something else." 

"No, no. It's alright. I just … have to get used to it. It's, uhm … new." 

Yuri grins. At least they are communicating. "No one called you  _ 'daddy'  _ before?!" Otabek shakes his head, and Yuri grins wider. "You have, like ridiculous amounts of daddy energy. What's going on there?"

Otabek hides his face against Yuri's neck, and  _ again _ with the shyness, Yuri feels like he'll melt. "I'm 23, and fairly short." 

So he's insecure? Interesting. Or maybe he just doesn't see it. Yuri turns in Otabek's arms and looks up at him, making a point about the height difference, he hopes. "I don't see  _ me _ sporting a tail or fur."

He receives another one of those secret smiles, then almost drops the bottle of wine when Otabek lifts him. Yuri's legs wrap around his waist. Fortuna is definitely real and on his side tonight.

\--

Yuri expected them to be done with negotiations. After all, they spent a considerable amount of time working through them during their first meeting, didn't they? But the disaster that their following session turned into proved obviously that they were wrong.

At least it's more comfortable now. Otabek insists on no alcohol if Yuri wants to play, and that's precisely what Yuri wants. So they are bundled up in bed now, both with a glass of cherry juice to play pretend, and discuss their limits. Again.

If feels more familiar now. More genuine. Less like demands being traded for lazy compromises and more like a conversation with someone you trust. Yuri realizes with horror that yes, he does trust Otabek to know what's best for them.

This time, it isn't wild. There are no leather beds and leopard rugs. There's Yuri's linen sheets and Potya's pet bed in the corner that she never uses because Yuri's head is a better pillow. 

"Are you okay with me taking things slow tonight?" 

Yuri nods. Yes. He wants them to go slow. Even though he never wanted that before, never had that before. He had his first real kiss in a graffiti sprayed bathroom stall with holes in the walls. His first heavy make-out session in the middle of a dancefloor, with his platform sneakers sticking to the ground from spilled, sweet innocence. His first fingering while bent over a dumpster in a back alley he can't remember the name of, with a guy he can't remember the face of. 

None of those bothered him, personally. They bothered him enough to hide them from Viktor, though. And he wasn't a man of melancholy either. 

This, though? 

This, Yuri doesn't have to hide. Which doesn't mean he'll leave the door open. But Viktor knows who he went home with, gave his okay. 

When all is said and done, Yuri dumps his toy bag on the bed. It's smaller than Otabek's, but he didn't bring his today. He had not planned to play. 

"Do you trust me?" 

There is this word again, this word that should scare and numb him, but instead makes Yuri feel light. "Yes." 

Otabek gives him a tiny smile. "Yes, what?" 

Yuri isn't sure how to answer. Should he go back to  _ 'sir' _ ? But Otabek wanted to try, and Yuri is confident he'll let him know if it's not to his liking. This time, Yuri is ready to be guided by him. "Yes, daddy." 

For the fraction of a second, Yuri can see his mouth twitch, and he wonders if it was right or wrong, but Otabek nods, so he relaxes. The feeling is foreign. 

"Are you okay with blindfolds?" 

"I told you I trust you!" More force than necessary, the definition of Yuri Plisetsky. 

Otabek smiles. "Okay, kitten. Here we go." And just like that, Yuri is blind. He sits back and waits, enjoys the sensations temporary visual deprivation brings. There's the bed underneath him, the soft material against his head, a warm hand petting his hair. 

For a moment, his brain conjures up all the images of the last weeks, all the plans he made for himself. But nothing can stand up to the real deal. 

Yuri is stretched out on the mattress. Otabek positions him like a doll, his hands careful despite their undeniable hidden strength. In a fluid movement, Yuri is guided onto his belly, arms, and legs to the side. 

Otabek's lips trail over his back, down his spine, over his tailbone. Then, his shirt is stolen from him and after that, his pants. Yuri lies still in his underwear. He knows he's a sight to behold, even if Otabek has seen it all on the pole already. But just like he plans to take all of Otabek in once he sees it, Yuri wants to offer him the same. 

Hands soon roam his body. First, it's a careful caress, but Otabek's grip tightens over time. He's actively stimulating the skin, increasing blood flow to prevent injuries. Yuri breathes a little more easily now that he can confirm Otabek knows what he's doing. 

Both of Yuri's arms are pulled back in a careful and fluid movement. He thinks  _ 'handcuffs' _ for a hot second, but then realizes he doesn't own those terrible monstrosities of fake fur and metal. Don't get him wrong, the animal print fur is exceptionally cool. But metal cuffs are dangerous. 

He's relieved when rope wraps around his arms. It's hemp, of course. Viktor wouldn't be caught dead with synthetic material in his home. And overall, hemp has the best properties for a wide variety of purposes. 

The swiftness of Otabek's movements reveals as much about him as his choice of toys, but Yuri is too aroused to honestly think about it. He focuses on the feelings instead. The way his sheets bunch under his curled toes, the way the rope bites into his skin. Just right. Otabek's hand is in his, and Yuri has to squeeze it, first left, then right. Mentally he's running a checklist for as long as his brain will let him. It's crucial for him to know where Otabek is proficient and where he might need to learn more. 

Time smudges together like colors on a palette, and Yuri is sure he's in competent hands. Usually, it's hard for him to get out of his head, but there's already the drowsy feeling he longs for in the back of his mind. 

Otabek takes his sweet time, makes sure two and three times that the bonds are resting comfortably on his skin, and that he's restricted in a pleasant but not painful way. Yuri is the tiger in a cage, and Otabek holds the key. Strangely, he's okay with that. 

For a while, Yuri lies with the finalized knots holding him together, even when his mind wants to drift off. Repeatedly, he blinks against the blindfold. Darkness surrounds him, so Yuri struggles to allow his other senses to dull entirely. He's been on alert for too fucking long, and maybe he should have chosen dominants to help with  _ that _ instead of rough sex. 

His very personal wisdom that came with age. At 20. 

Only when Otabek helps him sit up does he realize how disoriented he feels. "Hey … can I take off the blindfold?" 

Otabek's palm skims over his hair and under the fastening of the mask. "How do we ask properly?" 

There's a slight shiver going through him, and Yuri doesn't even realize he's smiling. "Could you take off the blindfold, please, Daddy?" He has to agree it has a different ring. 

Skilled fingers open the little bow on top of his hair, and the bindings fall open. Yuri is back in his room, sitting on his linen sheets, covered in rope. "Thank you, Daddy." 

Otabek grabs his chin and pulls him into a tender kiss. It's so different. "Do you want me to light some candles, Yura?" The nickname makes him shiver. Yuri nods, and Otabek gets up to do just that. He moves self-assured, doesn't look like he's new in the environment at all. It seems like he was meant to be there, meant to be with Yuri. 

In the end, Otabek also turns on the fairy lights wrapped around Yuri's curtain rods and bed frame, and it's so pretty and soft, he feels almost exposed. The rope stabilizes him. 

The bed dips when Otabek sits down next to him. "Can I braid your hair?" 

Yuri tries to be funny, tries to act like his heart isn't a puddle of goo on the bottom of his rib cage. "What? Is that a kink of yours?"

He doesn't expect Otabek's warm, sincere, and entirely unashamed answer. "Yes." 

"Oh." Well then. 

He nods, and the dom smiles, almost grateful. "Thank you, kitten." Yuri doesn’t expect the kiss on his neck either, but now that Yuri knows what it feels like, he can already tell he wants it all the time. Which might be a problem. Otabek notices when he goes rigid. "What is it?" 

"This." Yuri gestures between them,  pointing with his nose . "What is this between us?" 

"What do you want it to be?" 

That's a tough fucking question to ask someone who's currently bundled up like a Christmas present and sitting in the glow of dozens of tiny lightbulbs and candle flames. A dangerous question, because the obvious answer doesn't have to be the right one. But it feels so right, god damn it. "I want you." 

"And what of me do you want?"

"That's not fair. I asked first." 

Otabek chuckles and kisses his neck again, and oh shit, at least Yuri's body knows very well what it wants right now. "I’ve wanted you since I saw you for the very first time. I'm training in the same dance company you are." 

There are a thousand questions he wants to ask.  _ 'You dance?', 'When?', 'Where?', 'What style of dance?', 'Who's your teacher' _ —but they all die out in comparison to another thought. "Impossible. I would have recognized you. There's no way I wouldn't have seen someone so … fine." 

Otabek chuckles, might think it's a joke or a compliment. Still, Yuri is honestly bothered by the thought, enough to ruin his mushy headspace. The bondage starts to feel restricting. "I'm in a different class. And years older. It was quite some time ago, that first meeting. I'm in a contemporary freestyle class. We use the mirrored studio after you." 

Yuri's mind races. He can't remember other dancers. He only focuses on his own performance, on giving his all. When he's done, he's too worn out to look around for pretty faces. 

Seeing his confusion, Otabek carries on. "I almost fell from my chair seeing you on a pole in  _ 'Eros.' _ I've seen you do a lot of crazy things with your body, but this …"

And that's how Yuri remembers where they are and what they're doing and what they were talking about. It's keeping them from continuing what they wanted to do all along. "So, you want my body?" 

Otabek's head jerks back in surprise, but only for a second, then he smiles again. "No. I also want the spitfire spirit demanding all those things from his body." 

Better answer. Yuri is placated. He smiles at the dom. "I want the man who demands all those things from the boy with the banging body and the spitfire soul." 

And that's as good as it'll get right now because they are kissing once more and neither of them seem to want to talk anymore. Fingers trail over his bindings, tug on and prod them, and Yuri might have a better understanding now, but that doesn't mean he's a patient man all of a sudden. 

"Touch me." 

Otabek smirks at him. This time, there's no coldness when he speaks. "You're not making the rules here, kitten." 

"Touch me,  _ please." _ A quirked eyebrow from the dom. Yuri grits his teeth, but it's playful. " _ Daddy _ ." 

He hums his approval, and it's almost ridiculous how much the submissive part of Yuri wants to preen and dance under the attention and affection. "Good boy." 

"Thank you, daddy." 

A hand on his face, yet again cupping it, pulling Yuri into a deeper kiss than he had anticipated. "I thought you don't like being called a good boy." 

"I thought so, too." 

"What changed?" 

"I did." He looks proud of himself. Yuri is not miserable, like someone who lost a part of his soul. He's an adventurer who learned to find new parts on his journey. 

Otabek loosens some restraints, repositions him until he's on his knees, front to the room, back to the wall. He slides between Yuri and the headboard. Again, those big warm hands. They run over Yuri's body. He shivers, whines low in his throat. 

"You like that." An observation, not a question. 

No need to lie. "Yes, daddy." 

Otabek hums, content with that answer. He begins to free Yuri of the rope that's still wrapped around him,  taking off the last bits of clothing with them . Then, Otabek gathers his hair and finally begins to braid it. He's efficient but cautious. Once the plaid drops onto Yuri's back, a hand sneaks around his body, curls under his rib cage, pulls Yuri back. 

"How do you feel?" Otabek is just a voice in his ear, an incorporeal being watching over him. And yet, he is so real, plastered to Yuri's back. 

"Safe." 

Teeth gnaw on the shell of his ear. It's Yuri's first hint. The second hint is the hand cupping his chest. Otabek wedges his barbell between two fingers and tugs. Yuri's erection is almost painful now. It doesn't help that Otabek's second-hand lands on Yuri's cock, but instead of jerking him off, it's squeezing the base. 

Otabek knows what he's doing, has probably noticed the amount of precum leaking down Yuri's erection like sugary droplets of melted icecream in summer.

"Please!" A second squeeze, even harder. "Please, daddy?" That has to be right. 

A dark chuckle behind his ear. "Oh, no. Does the little kitten need something?* 

Yuri is about to protest and tell him  _ 'no' _ when Otabek moves a single finger along velvety skin. His dick jumps pitifully and leaks harder. Fuck it. Yuri has no honor left, anyway. "Yes, daddy." 

A contemplative hum. "What does it need?"

"You, sir." 

"Me? That's a little greedy, don't you think?" Yuri hasn't been aware he got himself a secret sadist, but it figures. 

"Whatever you think is right?" Apparently, that's the right answer because Otabek forms a tunnel with his hand and offers it to Yuri's starving hips. There's no restraint. Yuri bucks into the tight curl without even thinking about it. 

His skin prickles where Otabek's eyes rest, Yuri whimpers softly. He can't remember dry hands feeling this good. 

"Do you need to cum?" 

"Yes." A squeeze, the maddening feeling of being denied. Yuri bucks harder. "Yes, daddy." 

"Good boy." Yuri gasps. Shit, he's so close. Maybe denying himself all this time hadn't been his best idea. But on the other hand, he was incredibly sensitive to the dom's touch now. "You're so beautiful, Yura." 

The nickname hits harder than the compliment. Yuri shivers. "'m close …" it's a mumbled whine that Otabek probably has to half-guess. By now, Yuri's face is screwed tight, clenching with anticipation, hurting almost as much as his balls. "Please, daddy …" 

"Soon. Be good. You'll cum when I tell you to, right? You wanna make daddy proud?" 

Fuck yes, Yuri wants to make him proud. But he also really wants to get rid of the suffocating feeling that is choking him. "Please, daddy. Pleeeease!" He never begged like this, long and drawn out and desperate. 

"Ten." 

Yuri tenses. Ten what? Minutes? Seconds? Spankings?  _ What? _

"Nine." 

Oh, thank god, it's a countdown that actually progresses. Yuri digs his nails into his own thighs. He's so close. This is torture. 

"Eight." 

Otabek is rubbing him raw. There's no lube, no lotion, not even fucking spit. But he's so desperate he doesn't care. If he is chaffed tomorrow, at least he knows what he did. 

"Seven." 

Lips on the column of his neck, teasing the tight muscles and leaving the lightest tooth prints. Yuri is shrunk to basic needs and, at the same time, expanded beyond his physical form. 

"Six." 

Otabek raises his hand, for a second stopping the touch, and Yuri cries out in frustration. It's not a pleasant noise, but it's honest. He's frantically rutting into the air. He doesn't dare touch himself, needs Otabek. "Ple-e-e-eeeease!" 

"Five." 

The sound is muffled by Otabek's palm in front of his lips. He licks it once, twice, then puts it back, and it's the best thing Yuri’s felt in weeks. "Fuck!" 

"Ssshh … language." 

A desperate whimper. Yuri doesn't want a lesson right now. He wants his warm, sticky cum plastered to his own abdomen, to Otabek's hand, out of his system. But he knows picking a fight now would be dumb. 

"Four." 

He's rewarded with another number. Yuri’s entire being tenses, he is so fucking close. No idea how he’s managed to hold out this long. 

"Three." 

Otabek's palm picks up the pace, becomes almost brutal and punishing in the way it rubs Yuri raw. He can feel the countdown in his body. Almost. 

"Two." 

Yuri's toes curl into the sheets. Otabek's hand is warm and steady, and the saliva and precum do their thing, even though it's still a lot to take in. 

"One." 

His stomach curls. His balls tighten. Yuri can feel his body giving in to what he knows will come now, has to come, now. The early signs of his orgasm slam into him with the force of a hurricane when Otabek suddenly takes away his hand. 

"Cum." 

And Yuri does, with a choked cry, relief and desperation and outrage in one. His body spills what he had curated so carefully, but Yuri is curled forward and sobs, even as his own cum runs down his body. 

"YOU BASTARD!" He spins around, tears in his eyes. Otabek looks so fucking smug Yuri wants to punch him. He might. "HOW DARE YOU!" 

The man in question chuckles softly. The fucking nerve! "I thought you said you trust me." 

Yuri gapes at him and looks down at his dick. He's still hard, despite the cum that leaked out when Otabek decided to ruin his orgasm. Technically, Yuri knows it's a practice from the broad field of chastity kink, but Otabek couldn't know how much Yuri has denied himself. 

Ruined orgasms are the  _ worst _ . The touch is stopped right as the ejaculation begins, no stroking through, nothing to tide one over. There's fluid, but no release. They leave you feeling blue balled, disappointed, as if someone snatched the last bit of happiness from your cold, dying hands. They leave you horny when your body is already done. But not really  _ done _ . 

Yuri licks his lips, looks down at his still proudly standing dick, at the dribbles of fluid all over him. Pitiful. He really went and got himself a sadist. Fuck. 

He is on all fours now, face hovering in front of a delighted Otabek. He's moving his left and right, a snake charmed and following the tunes of another man. He wants to cry. "Please, daddy." Back at square one, but at least Yuri knows now what kind of person his lover is. 

Otabek grins and quirks a brow. "You called me  _ 'bastard.' _ "

Did he really? Fuck! Yuri's face drains of blood, just to be flooded a second later. "I didn't mean it!" His eyes are pleading, begging just like his lips. "Daddy, please!" 

"Maybe I need to teach you a lesson?" 

Fuck. Fuck yes. And fuck no. Because Yuri wants one thing and one thing only right now. He nods anyway, but Otabek grins about the desperation in his eyes. He really is a bastard, now that Yuri is thinking about it. 

Otabek moves, disentangles his belt from his slacks. He folds the leather, looks at Yuri for confirmation. At least he's a safe bastard. Yuri nods. He deserves this, and, far more importantly, he might get an actual reward if he's good during his punishment. Legs open further, he sticks out his ass. 

"Cup yourself." 

Yuri reaches behind, wraps his hand around his testicles. They still feel heavy. Maybe that gave him away? He draws them up, tight against his body, so Otabek won't accidentally hit them. Yuri is grateful for the precaution. 

He gets another countdown of ten, this time from one up. Otabek isn't lenient with him, makes use of his strength, and those ridiculous muscles. When he's done, Yuri's entire ass is red, streaks kissing the once pale flesh in a beautiful criss-cross pattern he can't appreciate now, but will love in the mirror come morning. But before morning can come, Yuri wants his fill. Literally. Otabek behind him like this makes him shiver in all the right and wrong ways. 

Once the spanking is over, Otabek pushes him forward, gently into the mattress, so Yuri is resting on his tummy. Whenever he moves, his tip grazes the linen, and he moans. Otabek hasn't stopped him yet, probably enjoys the squirming almost as much as Yuri. 

He settles between the opened legs, hand on the blazing crimson cheeks, spreading them. Yuri knows what that means—hopes he knows, prays—and again, Fortuna is good to him because Otabek's tongue swipes over his entrance. 

"FUCK!" 

"Not yet. Don't be so impatient. At least you already got to cum, right?" 

Yuri wants to kick him in his dumb face, but Otabek puts his mouth where Yuri's money is. He shudders. Spreads his legs as best as he can in Otabek's grip and feels the bruised skin stretch. It's delicious. 

It's everything and not enough. Within a minute, he's biting the fleshy part of his hand. Fuck. It feels so good. Yuri moans. If he's honest with himself, he's glad they are doing this on his bed, not in the club, because he will most likely be unable to walk later. 

Otabek's tongue is relentless in its assault of Yuri's burning body. When the dom moves his arms under Yuri's thighs to angle him up, he loses focus for a hot second. But just when Yuri wants to lose himself in the feeling, Otabek's hands curl into his scarlet ass cheeks, nails first, and Yuri yelps.

The pain is sweet. He just needed a moment to relax into it. But Otabek doesn't give him a break. He scratches, pokes, slaps the burning streaks and Yuri? Yuri realizes belatedly that all those sweet, desperate noises come from him. 

He wants to beg, to tell Otabek to hurry up, to give him more. But no way. He's silenced by his own horny brain. Yuri is swimming in a cocktail of liquid happiness and pitch-black despair, and whenever he thinks he will drown, Otabek pulls him out, compresses his chest and breathes into him until he can function again, just to plunge him back in. 

He doesn't realize that he's wailing until someone below them slams a broom or something against their ceiling. And even then, Yuri only manages to associate the weak noises with himself when Otabek stops to eat him out like he's an ice cream bowl and spoons aren't invented yet. 

Fuck. When has he lost his mind like this before? Ever? 

Otabek is suddenly next to his head. When did he get there? How? 

Yuri's jaw is worked open with two careful, experienced fingers pressing the hinges until Otabek can put a gag ball in. Yuri forgot he has it, but fuck, he's grateful now. And how better to demonstrate than with a smile? 

When he looks up at the dom, drool spills over the corners of his lips. He's a disaster. Hair a bird's nest, stage make-up smudged, chin covered in spit, and his mess from earlier by now steadily worked into his sheets. 

Otabek looks at him as if he's in love. Smiles back. Whatever he sees, it must be beautiful. 

He's back between Yuri's thighs in a heartbeat, but this time, he introduces the tip of a finger. It's wet enough from the saliva, but he dutifully sits up and lets Yuri direct him silently to the lube on the nightstand. It's not even in a drawer, no one in this apartment has any chills left. 

Time blurs together when Otabek works him open. Tongue and fingers, then fingers, more, more, more. Yuri's thighs are shaking, and god damn, he's a dancer. But his brain left him about half an hour ago, so he doesn't have the decency to be ashamed. Now, all he is is a fucktoy for Otabek's pleasure. It's what he deserves, they both deserve. In the back of his mind, Yuri curses himself for every night since the first playdate that he lost to being stubborn. But the thought can't transpire much because Otabek's fingers fuck every bit of sense and logic right out of him. 

He's gone silent around ten minutes ago, eyes half-lidded and a dopey smile on his face. Yuri is under. His mind detached itself from his body, and he's floating. Subspace. It's been a while. He barely registers when Otabek takes the gag off of him.

There's no way to pinpoint how time progresses. Yuri blinks, he's on his tummy, and Otabek's fingers fuck his ass open. He blinks again, and he's on his back, legs spread, with the dom sucking on him. Bliss. Yuri closes his eyes. When he opens them again, he's in Otabek's arms. No more movement. Just a hug. Warmth. 

Yuri smiles, seeks out a kiss, and falls asleep. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another big chapter done.   
> How are y'all holding up? And because I know people hate commenting on smut but I still would love to talk to you:   
> What's your favorite color or what do you think Otayuri would use as nicknames for each other, both in canon and AUs? 
> 
> Thank you for reading!  
> I'm also on  
> tumblr: https://www.tumblr.com/blog/venom-for-free  
> instagram: https://www.instagram.com/venom_for_free/  
> or twitter: https://twitter.com/venom_for_free


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Recap Chapter 7: Otabek and Yuri go home together. There are some blindfolding and bondage going on, but eventually, Otabek frees him, and things go slower. He admits to Yuri that they already met each other and that both of them dance. Otabek braids his hair, then they fall into the actual play. Otabek gives Yuri a countdown to focus on, just to end it by ruining his orgasm. Yuri gets a little mouthy, and Otabek punishes him with the belt before he eats him out. After that, he works a very dazed Yuri open. Yuri falls into subspace, doesn’t realize what is going on after that.

He wakes when the front door slams. Because fucking Viktor can't close a door like a normal human being. Katsuki reprimands him, but it's too late. Yuri is awake. And Otabek with him. 

He startled upright, staring at Yuri's door with big, panicky eyes. Poor man. Yuri grabs his arm and pulls him back down. "It's just stupid Viktor. Come here." 

Otabek goes willingly, lays down, gathers Yuri against his chest. "Hey, kitten." His breathing evens out, but slowly. 

"Hey, daddy." Yuri kisses his jaw and grins. God, Otabek is so tense. No one should be so tense after great sex ... Yuri's eyes fly open. This time, he's the one sitting up. And he can feel it. Or can't feel it. He stares at Otabek. "You didn't fuck me." It comes out like an accusation, but in reality, it's confused wonder. 

This time, it's Otabek who grabs Yuri's arm and pulls him down. "You were basically unconscious." 

Yuri follows the movement but shakes his head. What? "I consented." 

"Yeah." 

"You still didn't put it in." 

"No." 

"Didn't you want to cum?" 

"Desperately." 

"Why didn't you then?" 

"You were basically unconscious." 

And they are back at the start. Yuri frowns. What Otabek did was respectful as fuck, the damn gentleman. But … "Did you suck me off?!" 

"Yeah." 

Yuri can't fucking believe it. Here he lies, the fool who fell asleep completely and utterly satisfied, but he left the one who did all the work with a raging hard-on, no doubt. "That's unacceptable." 

Otabek opens his eyes, looks at him, frowns. "I'm sorry. You're right. I should have stopped earlier. Taking advantage of you like this wasn't—" 

"Shut up, you dumb fucking walnut. It's unacceptable I got to cum, but you didn't!" 

"Oh." 

"Yeah. Oh." Now Yuri is frowning, too. "I'm not one of  _ those _ , you know? Who takes and won't give back!" 

"Never said you were." 

"Good." 

"Good." Silence. Yuri nuzzles almost angrily into Otabek's hug. When there's no response a minute later, he sits back up. "Don't go back to sleep like nothing happened!" 

Otabek peels his eyes open, brows dropping into a confused frown. "I'm … sorry? What do you want me to—" 

"I'M GOING TO GET YOU OFF." 

More visible confusion. "Kitten, it's the middle of the night and your roommates just—" 

Yuri presses a finger to Otabek's lips. "Listen." 

And  _ yes, of course, _ there's the signature sound of a creaking mattress and a moaning couple. They are both so fucking loud even when they try to be silent. Otabek's eyes widen a little, then he grins and wraps his mouth around Yuri's finger. He sucks just the slightest bit, and immediately, Yuri's hips jerk in an almost violent memory of the last night. 

"You sure you want to go again? You were pretty out of it earlier." 

Yuri glares and straddles his lover. "My condition is great, thank you very much." The position reignites the fire beneath his bruised behind. Yuri loves it. He's already hard again. 

Otabek shakes his head, clearly amused even though his face stays the same stoic mask. Yuri is getting better at reading his eyes. "You want it like this, kitten?" 

He didn’t care so much about the position when he climbed Otabek, but now Yuri realizes it's perfect. He can set the pace, show off, make sure Otabek goes nowhere, slam his ass down, and feel the kiss of Otabek's belt again and again. 

"Yes." There was just one condition. "When I go under again, I want you to take over and fuck me  _ hard _ , got it?" Not if. When. 

Otabek nods. Promises. He's riled up, too, and now he has explicit permission. 

Yuri leans back and brushes his hand over his lover's thigh. When did Otabek get undressed? Everything from the last few hours is a blur. 

He shoves the underwear down and takes the hard cock beneath it in hand. Yuri has felt it once before, briefly. All other encounters like this have been in his head. Otabek is thick. Longer than he should be with that physique. Fuck. That's going to be so  _ fucking _ good. He's so dumbstruck, he wants to slide right on. 

Otabek holds his hips still and smirks. Bastard. Thinks Yuri can't handle him after all that stretching earlier and— 

"We might want to try a condom and lube, kitten?" 

Shit. Yuri flushes. He was so greedy for this piece of prime meat in his hands, for a second, he forgot all about diseases and lubrication issues. He gulps, nods. "Yes, daddy." The smile Otabek gives him is too soft, too fond. Yuri wants to tear his heart out. He goes for the nightstand instead, grabs condoms. When he wants to reach for the lube, it's gone. 

"Sorry, I think it's still somewhere in the sheets." 

Yuri rolls his eyes in mock annoyance and slides off to look for the lube. The noises from the couple next door increase, and, oh boy, is he ready to sound like that, too. 

When he finally finds the bottle, he pours a generous amount over his lover and unceremoniously shoves four fingers into himself to make sure it’ll fit. Otabek put the condom on already, and the wet, shimmering, hard cock in front of him makes Yuri throb between his own legs. 

Once he's sure he won't tear himself open, Yuri climbs onto his lover. "Ready?" With a steady grip, he nudges Beka's tip to where he really,  _ really _ needs it. 

"Fuck, yes." Otabek doesn't curse. But he did for Yuri, and that alone makes him whimper and start to sink down. Immediately, hands on his hips, keeping him from impaling himself too fast. Even if that is everything he wants. After a short hitch in his breath, Yuri glides down smoothly. Otabek fits into him as if he was made for Yuri. The second he bottoms out, he shudders violently. "Woah. Hey there, kitten. You okay?" 

Otabek flipping between gentleman and bastard in 0.2 seconds will keep giving Yuri whiplash, but he loves it. "Yes, daddy. I just feel so good." Otabek seems to accept that. He smiles and lightly guides Yuri up, just to plop him back down. There's moaning from two rooms, now, and Yuri has the absurd wish to be louder. 

He smiles at his lover, plays with his piercings since Otabek's hands are busy. "Yes, fuck. Just like that, daddy." He doesn’t have to fake his excitement. 

Pain from his spanking reverberates through him every time he slams down on Otabek. Pain and pleasure, pain and pleasure. Fuck, Yuri can already feel himself tensing. He squeezes the base of his cock, even though he hates it. But Otabek smiles at him, too soft for a hookup, and moves him a little quicker. 

When Yuri thinks it can't get any better, he is angled backward a little. Now Otabek drags over his most sensitive part. There's a loud gasp, allegedly his, and Yuri's mind flies out the window again. Because now, Otabek begins to slam into him at a bruising pace and with laser focus. 

Yuri is no longer riding, he's holding on for dear life as the wild animal below jostled him like a puppet. He  _ wants _ to stay afloat enough to see his partner cum, but when Otabek crocodile-death-rolls him into a new position that allows him to fuck Yuri even deeper, even faster, even harder—he's gone again. 

He doesn't know for how long, but he resurfaces when the brutal pace between his legs becomes a gentle roll. Otabek is above him, looking down with the most sickeningly sweet expression Yuri has ever seen and cradles his face with one hand. The other hand supports his weight, making sure not to crush his sub, and Yuri can't believe he found himself a man who is both good and evil in one person.

"Hey there." It's just two words, but they betray how worked up he is, how desperate, how  _ needy.  _ It's breathtaking. 

"Hey, daddy." Yuri knows his expression is just as sappy right now, but he can't force himself to care. The gentle rolls turn a little more urgent, but still, there's no pressure. Yuri is grateful that Otabek allowed him to resurface for this moment. He wants to treasure it. 

"You okay?" 

Yuri nods. Even now, he's Otabek's highest priority. "Thank you for bringing me back." He's rewarded for his loving words with a big, warm smile that melts something inside of him. "Now, please. I need you." 

Otabek nods, moves his hand from Yuri's face to around his lover's dick. "I need you, too, kitten." 

And that's too much. The mind-numbing, brutal fucking is okay, but actual whispered confession at 5 in the morning while they come dangerously close to making love? Yuri pulls Otabek's face into a bruising, scorching hot kiss, that pulls his entire body tight. When he feels Otabek stutter and twitch above him, Yuri realizes he's not the only one affected. They come together this time, almost silent, each other's name on their lips just seconds after. No titles, no roles, no pet names. Otabek shudders through it, and Yuri isn't any less shaken. They cling to each other for support, as wave after wave of emotional and physical relief wash over them. 

It's too intimate. It's perfect. 

They eventually manage to crawl back to the surface of consciousness, when Viktor slams the door again for his morning run. 

Yuri tightens his hold on Otabek. "Stay." 

"I wasn't planning to leave." 

"I meant forever." 

He knows it's ridiculous. And yet, Yuri watches the smile develop this time, and how it morphs into a kiss. Then, he closes his eyes. Feels, not sees. They kiss silently, both uncaring that they are still connected, sticky, and gross. Otabek rests his head on Yuri's shoulder and nuzzles his neck. Just when Yuri accepts not getting an answer, just when he is about to slip back into his dreams, he hears it. 

"Me, too."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AND THAT'S A WRAP. I told y'all it would end well. 
> 
> Now is my time to say thank you.  
> Thank you to those who followed me into this story from day one.  
> Thank you to those who found it somewhere in between or once it was finished.  
> Thank you for commenting and kudos-ing.  
> Thank you for sharing a bit of you in return for me sharing this.  
> Thank you to Taedae, who still is my lifeline when it comes to editing and life in general. 
> 
> If you like what I do, there is still "Oh my god they were husbands" going on, which I love with my entire heart.  
> Next week, I will start a new fic in this spot called "Forgetmenot". It's also Otayuri and I would LOVE to see some of you again. 
>
>>   
> I'm also on  
> [Tumblr](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/venom-for-free)[, Instagram](https://www.instagram.com/venom_for_free/) or [Twitter](https://twitter.com/venom_for_free)


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